At length the party separated—Mrs. Crosbie to show a new edition of fine airs to the wondering Mrs. Slater—the other ladies to discuss their excursion again and again, over "cups which cheer, but not inebriate."
CHAPTER III.
Something there is more needful than expense,
And something previous even to taste—'tis sense.
Pope.
Dum vitant stulti vitia, in contraria currunt.[2]
Horace.
The family at Webberly House was the only one in the neighbourhood of Deane, which lived in a style of ostentatious expense; its members vainly endeavouring to purchase respect by extravagance, and to transfer the ideas and hours of the beau monde to a place totally unfit for their reception. The only families within a distance often miles of their residence were—Sir Henry Seymour's, at Deane Hall—Squire Thornbull's, at Hunting Field, and Mr. Temple's, at the parsonage of Deane; all of whom lived in the most quiet manner. Beyond this distance, however, the country was more thickly inhabited, and the town of York, in the race and assize week, presented sufficient attractions to make a drive of thirty miles no impediment to the Webberlys visiting it at those times, though its allurements were not great enough to tempt their immediate neighbours from their homes. Mrs. Sullivan had purchased Webberly House, two years previous to the commencement of this narration, on the faith of an advertisement nearly as deceptious as the famous one of a celebrated auctioneer, that procured the sale of an estate on the strength of a "hanging-wood," which proved to be a gibbet on an adjoining common.
Webberly House—formerly called Simson's Folly—had been purposely tricked up for sale by a prodigal heir, when obliged to dispose of his paternal estate to discharge the debts his extravagance had incurred. As a second dupe was not easily to be found, Mrs. Sullivan now vainly endeavoured to part with it, as neither she nor her children could reconcile themselves to living in so retired a part of the country.