There were several ladies and gentlemen present from the neighborhood, some of whom my mother had formerly known, and we were for a while quite the centre of attraction, a condition of things which did not seem to please Mrs. Martha at all, to judge by her black looks. She would hardly even give a civil answer to poor Captain Bernard when he addressed her, and as I looked at her, I wondered what he could have seen in her to wish to make her his wife. But I found out long ago that there is no use in trying to account for such matters.
Mrs. Theo was pleased with everything and everybody, herself included. She was uncommonly pretty, and dressed herself with great taste. She was not very deep, but what there was of her was good and sweet, and she was always kind, even to self-sacrifice when needful. She did not care for study, and had no special tastes for anything but embroidery, in which, indeed, she excelled any person I ever saw. We were soon the best of friends, and have always remained so.
The evening passed pleasantly enough, what with music and conversation, cards and tables for the elders, and a little dance among the young folks. I had never learned any dances except those of the peasant folks in Normandy, and at present I was in no spirits for any such amusement, but I exerted myself to sing and play, and though a good deal confused, I believe I acquitted myself fairly.
When we returned to our room, we found Mrs. Dinah well pleased with the manner in which she had been treated by Mrs. Carey, but full of righteous indignation at the light conduct of the gentlemen's gentlemen, one of whom, it seems, had actually offered to kiss her. My mother soothed and comforted her, and told her she had better sit to our room or else with Mrs. Carey, and then she would be out of the way of the men servants.
"Oh, they are not all alike, madame," answered Dinah quickly. "There is the steward, Mr. Matteson, who is as sober and well conducted a man as any one would wish to see."
"Well, well, I am glad there is one exception to the rule," said my mother. "Now we will have our reading and go quickly to rest, for I am very tired, and my head is quite in a whirl. It is long since I have spent an evening."
For two or three days my mother was quite unwell, and I was of course with her most of the time, though I went out to walk two or three times with Mrs. Theo, who also showed me the house and pictures, which were very fine. As to Mrs. Martini, she never troubled herself about me in any way, and that was all I asked of her.
"You must not mind Martha," said Theo to me one day, when she had very shortly declined an invitation to walk with us. "She goes on her own way for all any one else, and she is always busy."
"What does she do?" I asked.
"Oh, she reads a great deal, especially in divinity, and she sews for the poor and visits them very often. She does twice as much for them as I do, and yet I don't know how it is, they are always glad to see mother and me, and they do not seem ever pleased to see her. I think sometimes they do not like so much advice. Do you not think that may be it?" she asked, raising her pretty eyebrows, and looking at me reflectively.