Christobelle was in a tremor; for the sentences which flowed in such profusion from her mother's lips, conveyed no meaning to her mind; she was anxious to do right, but no distinct line of conduct had been pointed out; she told her mother steadily, yet in considerable alarm, that she did not know what was meant.
"I dare say not, Bell; your ideas are as limited as your poor father's, and I can imagine your influence over his mind must be very extensive—the confluence of dullness and stupidity. However, Bell, you can, probably, comprehend what I mean, when I command you to keep all you see and hear to yourself."
"Yes, mamma, I can do that."
"Very well. If you find Sir Foster Kerrison at any time about the premises, don't see him; and, whatever may take place around you, be ignorant of all things. Can you do this?"
"I will not say any thing to papa, unless he asks a question," replied Christobelle, quite assured in mind that she was giving satisfaction at last; her mother did not join her in opinion.
"Nonsense, folly! you have not common sense to guide you through life, child. Thank Heaven, the burden of procuring you an establishment will not be upon my shoulders! Your father must manage that affair as he pleases; he takes the whole management of you upon himself. Your wretched matter-of-fact ways would traverse all my plans for your benefit."
Christobelle was wrong again! She never could understand her mother's innuendoes, and she told her so, though she trembled as the words fell hesitating from her lips. She told her, also, that she could not comprehend the epithet "matter-of-fact," which she continually used with reference to her conduct. Alas! the explanation was to the artless girl equally unintelligible.
"You have no capacity, Bell, or you would understand the meaning of that expression. Your sisters were not matter-of-fact, unless, perhaps, Mrs. Tom Pynsent might be considered so; but time would have improved her; you are past hope. Nothing is so matter-of-fact, as believing every thing you hear, and answering questions point-blank. Nothing can be so cruelly matter-of-fact, as telling people exactly what you think, and making remarks upon people's movements. I believe matter-of-fact is born with you, and I can perceive no intuition, no tact in your manners, by which to imagine a germ might be fostered by practice. You will be very like your grand aunt, Bell, and like her, too, you will live single. I have no hopes from such mental poverty."
Clara appeared absorbed in her book, for she never raised her eyes, or joined in the conversation which related to her sister. After her haughtily expressed determination to be guided by her own judgment, she remained silent, nor did she apparently hear a word that passed between her mother and Christobelle. Time was, certainly, fostering the "germ" of resolution in Clara's breast; and now that circumstances and events developed her character, it was easy to see she had shaken off all restraints, and intended to hold the reins in her own youthful and inexperienced hands. Lady Wetheral felt her power was no more, if it had ever existed, over Clara's opinions and conduct; and she detained her youngest daughter to listen to her grievances.