“Reconciled!” repeated Elizabeth; “we have never quarrelled.”
“Oh, of course not. That would not do at all. But you have never been very fond of one another, you know.”
“I respect Cousin Betsey entirely, though we do not often see one another,” said Elizabeth. “I did not go to the Hill the other day, however. Clifton went with Mr Maxwell, and they enjoyed it, as you say.”
The squire was a little deaf, and not catching what was said, needed to have the whole matter explained to him.
“Betsey is a good woman,” said he; “I respect Betsey. Her mother isn’t much of a business woman, and it is well Betsey is spared to her. It’ll be all right about the place; I’ll make it all right, and Jacob won’t be hard on them.”
And so the old man rambled on, till the talk turned to other matters, and Mrs Jacob kept the rest of her remarks for Elizabeth’s private ear.
“I am so glad you like Mr Maxwell, Elizabeth. I was afraid you would not; you are so fastidious, you know, and he seems to have so little to say for himself.”
“I like him very much, and so does Clifton,” said Elizabeth, waiting for more.
“I am very glad. He seems to be having a good influence on Clifton. He hasn’t been in any trouble this time, at all, has he? How thankful you must be. Jacob is pleased. I only hope it may last.”
The discussion of her younger brother’s delinquencies, real or supposed, was almost the only thing that irritated Elizabeth beyond her power of concealment; and if she had been in her sister-in-law’s house, this would have been the moment when she would have drawn her visit to a close. Now she could only keep silence.