Tom Pynsent looked all astonishment during the dialogue which passed between his wife and mother. It did not occur to him that his Anna Maria's love was less sincere than his mother's affection: and as to his wife's recapitulation of his virtues, "Who the devil married a woman unless he meant to indulge her?"
This little scene, and Anna Maria's public testimony in favour of her husband's kindness had great effects, however, naturally and unsuspiciously as it had been spoken. Mrs. Pynsent was charmed by her daughter-in-law's simple and affectionate statement, and she was the head-piece at Hatton. From that moment every good feeling was enlisted on Anna Maria's side by Mrs. Pynsent; and her fondness for her daughter threatened to equal the affection she bore her son. She told her sister, Hancock, Anna Maria might paint her cheeks as scarlet as the Babylonian woman's gown if she liked, she would raise no objection. She cared for nothing but Tom, and if his wife loved him and made him happy, she might paint and talk of that Frenchman as much as she pleased.
The dinner-party appeared to Christobelle's eyes the ne plus ultra of human happiness. She was attended to by every person; and no one appeared startled by her awkwardness, or the vulgarity of her manners. Lady Wetheral's searching eye was not present; her severe remarks did not sound in her ear, and she enjoyed profound peace of mind and body. No subsequent dinner-party ever equalled that day in its effects upon her head and heart. She sat between her dear father and Charles Spottiswoode, enjoying their conversation, and looking upon happy faces. Miss Wycherly's lively spirits were ever amusing, and her spirited dialogues with her cousin Tom appeared to Christobelle to be the concentrated essence of wit and cleverness: she laughed unrestrainedly and joyously throughout the evening.
Sir Foster Kerrison and Clara were among the dinner guests, with Lucy. Clara's expression of figure and countenance was that of extreme hauteur, and she did not look at, or address Sir Foster during the evening. Sir Foster himself had regained his usual "far niente" since his last appearance. When the gentlemen returned into the drawing-room upon the summons to tea, Sir Foster deposited himself in an arm-chair, without addressing any of his neighbours. He looked on the amusements and the different groupes with a smile, as he sat stretched to his utmost length; his eye winked with tolerable rapidity, and a subdued chuckle every now and then evinced that his mind received pleasure from some part of the conversation which reached his ear at intervals. Clara alone preserved a haughty silence to all, and appeared cold and indignant. Lucy Kerrison, whose age approached nearest that of Christobelle, sat by her after tea, and confided to her hearing the miseries of Ripley.
"I declare, Miss Wetheral, Ripley is more solitary and disagreeable than ever. Papa and Clara do quarrel so dreadfully, that we cannot expect any one to come near the house." Here Lucy lowered her voice. "There was such a scene the day papa brought Clara away from Wetheral! Oh! Miss Chrystal, what dreadful things they said to each other! Papa, you know, is very violent, though he looks so still and quiet, and Clara was very provoking. Papa struck her once, and yet she would not be silent; she was very insolent, and papa threatened to turn her out of the house before the butler. It was very dreadful. Well, Clara ran away, and papa, you know, brought her back. Good gracious! how Clara did abuse him in the hall before all the servants! Papa only laughed then. I assure you they quarrelled this morning worse than ever; papa forgets as soon as it is over, but Clara keeps worry, worry, worry, till another quarrel is begun. I wish some one would ask me to stay with them: Lady Wetheral promised to have me with her; but I have never been asked since Clara married papa."
Christobelle mentioned her mother's illness, and her lowness of spirits.
"I am very sorry. Ripley is nothing now but a scene of quarrels. I was not aware of Clara's temper at Wetheral. I fancied her quick-feeling, but not violent. I assure you she makes papa worse, by her provoking manner and her determination to have the last word. What can it signify who has the first or last word in a quarrel?"
Christobelle was equally surprised at Lucy's description of Clara's talents for tormenting. She knew her disposition was very warm, and that she could be roused into violence; but she had never evinced a disposition to provoke. Christobelle had always considered her too proud to descend into wanton provocation, and too indifferent to her husband, to endure altercation after the cause had passed away, which provoked resentment. Clara's worst feelings were perhaps roused into action by Sir Foster's violence. Had her good genius interfered, to prevent the unhappy union of two beings so ill suited to each other, Clara had been a happier and better woman, and Sir Foster a more respectable and intelligent neighbour and friend. Christobelle looked at Clara as Lucy proceeded in her remarks, and could perceive her brow lowered, and her handsome mouth compressed. The cause of the morning's quarrel, as detailed by Lucy, was indeed frivolous, and wretched in its folly.
"That horrible fishmonger was at Ripley this morning, and Clara began vexing papa with the old affair over again—good gracious! how she did irritate him! Well, papa never forgets to revenge himself at the moment, so he went into the servants' hall, and brought a large fish into the sitting-room—goodness, how it smelled! Papa chuckled very much, so I knew he was preparing for mischief; and he threw the creature into Clara's lap, upon her beautiful silk dress—upon my honour! Clara told him he was a brute, too brutish for his own servants' hall; and there was such a dialogue! I ran away; but the servants listened at the door, and heard it all. Pelham says it was a proper Billingsgate on papa's side, and only just 'over the way' on Clara's part. Papa has forgot it now; but Clara will remember it for a month to come."