Sir John did not agree with her ladyship. He thought parental pangs must be to every heart a bitter trial; but a wife's welfare, or a husband's health, must be a paramount interest. To his idea, a mother's affection must bow to that of a wife.
"You think so, Sir John?" The Countess smiled bewitchingly upon her son. "I believe I did my duty to my lord; I think I devoted myself to his wishes; but I surely feel a more intense love for my son. Perhaps," continued the Countess, sighing, "perhaps his very delicate health interested my feelings too powerfully for my repose."
"I am, and must be," said his lordship, in most sententious tones, "extremely fortunate in possessing a relation so interested in my well-doing. I am sure my excellent wife feels for me a proper and lively affection; but, as the Countess-dowager remarks, there is want of reflection in the young, which only the more aged gain by experience."
"My dear lord," exclaimed Julia, with gentle earnestness, "I should be the only proper attendant; and I should be a most willing one, too; if you would allow me to mix your medicines—but Lady Ennismore has so frequently assured me...."
"Come, come, my sweet Julia, away with self-upbraidings, or upbraiding of any nature! I bear witness to your worth and kindness; let us proceed to despatch our breakfast, that I may claim Sir John's company." The Countess allowed no pause in the conversation to enable Julia to continue her observation.
"Sir John, I look forward to great commendations on your part. My son's taste is admirably set forth in the new drive, which comprehends a circuit of three miles. My dear Miss Wetheral, you have a fine lady's appetite: surely Bedinfield will effect a change. I am sure my Julia will enjoy an hour or two of chat with you, my young friend, while we are absent. A little chat upon Wetheral topics. Julia talks with so much fervour of her friends in Shropshire!"
"I wish they would all think of me with equal interest, and become better correspondents," observed Julia, energetically.
"Talking of correspondence," said the Countess, addressing Sir John, "how few of our earliest friends ever continue to keep up the delightful intercourse of extreme youth. So many new objects, so many new perceptions! We rarely can long persevere in the course of our early career."
"My daughter's friend makes the same remark. Miss Wycherly complains of Julia's silence," observed Sir John.
"I have written frequently, papa," cried Julia, her whole figure becoming animated with the subject. "I have even invited Penelope to Bedinfield, without receiving an acceptation or denial. What can my friend plead in extenuation of her neglect? I did expect to be summoned to her marriage. I promised to attend her summons."