I soon found, however, that I should have little time to practise. My Aunt Jem was one of those people who find quiet the most intolerable of all things. When she was not out herself, she would have company at home, and when she had no one else to amuse her, I must devote myself to that purpose. Not that she was either selfish or unkind. She had the making of a noble woman in her, had poor Aunt Jem, and even the world for which she lived had not quite spoiled her. But reflection was not agreeable to her, and diversion was her very life.
Our usual course of life was this: When my uncle was at home we breakfasted in my aunt's dressing-room; when he was not, in her bedroom, which she seldom quitted till ten or eleven o'clock, and where she would give audience to such tradespeople as it was convenient for her to see. Dressing was a work of time, thought, and much care, for, as my aunt herself observed, she was growing older, and as natural beauty waned, one must supply its place by art. The position of a patch was a subject of five minutes' consideration, and the rising of a pimple a cause for grave alarm.
When the important business was at last concluded, we usually went out shopping. In one of these excursions, we met my old acquaintance Mr. Pepys, a meeting which resulted in his being invited with his wife to dine in Covent Garden.
"He is a rising man and in a good deal of estimation at court," said my aunt, when we parted, "and his wife is a genteel, harmless little body. Besides, he was kind to your mother, and one must not forget old friends."
I was much pleased, both at the attention shown to the good man for my sake, and also because I hoped I might hear news of Andrew, to whom my better self still clung. But Mr. Pepys could tell me little more than I knew already—that the ship had gone to the West Indies, and would probably also visit New England before her return, which would occur in about six months.
My Uncle Charles was at home and we had a very pleasant party. I sung for Mr. Pepys and with him, for he was a good deal of a musician, and my aunt took his opinion as to her choice of a teacher which he commended.
In the afternoon we usually went into the park, paid visits, or attended some show or exposition of china or pictures, or we went to some auction or other. In the evening we either went out or entertained company at home, in which case we had cards, and not unfrequently the play ran pretty high.
The dean and Theo came to one of these entertainments, which indeed was made expressly for them; but I think they were not very well pleased with what they saw, for Theo sent for me the next day and was earnest for me to return home with her to Exeter.
I told her with many thanks that I could not think of it—that my aunt needed me, and that I was happy with her.
"That is the worst of it," said Theo gravely. "You like the life, and that makes it the more dangerous for you."