Georgiana actually opened her eyes with astonishment, and thought her mother did not know what she was saying, and that she certainly did not perceive that Count Altenberg was in the room.
“Count Altenberg, is this the book you are looking for?” said the young lady, pronouncing Count Altenberg’s name very distinctly, to put her mother on her guard.
Mrs. Falconer continued precisely in the same tone. “Georgiana does justice, I am sure, to Miss Percy’s merit and charms; but the truth is, she does not like her, and Georgiana has too much frankness to conceal it; and now come here, and I will tell you the reason.” In a half whisper, but perfectly intelligible to every one in the room, Mrs. Falconer went on—“Georgiana’s favourite brother, Buckhurst—did you never hear it? In days of yore, there was an attachment—Buckhurst, you know, is very ardent in his attachments—desperately in love he was—and no wonder. But at that time he was nobody—he was unprovided for, and the young lady had a good fortune then—her father would have him go to the bar—against the commissioner’s wishes. You know a young man will do any thing if he is in love, and is encouraged—I don’t know how the thing went on, or off, but Buckhurst found himself disappointed at last, and was so miserable about it! ready to break his heart! you would have pitied him! Georgiana was so sorry for him, that she never could forgive the young lady—though I really don’t imagine, after all, she was to blame. But sisters will feel for their brothers.”
Georgiana, charmed to find this amiable mode of accounting for her dislike to Caroline, instantly pursued her mother’s hint, and frankly declared that she never could conceal either her likings or dislikings—that Miss Caroline Percy might have all the merit upon earth, and she did not doubt but she had; yet she never could forgive her for jilting Buckhurst—no, never! never! It might be unjust, but she owned that it was a prepossession she could not conquer.
“Why, indeed, my dear young lady, I hardly know how to blame you,” cried Lady Trant; “for certainly a jilt is not a very amiable character.”
“Oh! my dear Lady Trant, don’t use such a word—Georgiana!—Why will you be so warm, so very unguarded, where that darling brother is concerned? You really—Oh! my dear Lady Trant, this must not go farther—and positively the word jilt must never be used again; for I’m confident it is quite inapplicable.”
“I’d not swear for that,” cried Lady Trant; “for, now I recollect, at Lady Angelica Headingham’s, what was it we heard, my dear Lady Kew, about her coquetting with that Mr. Barclay, who is now going to be married to Lady Mary Pembroke, you know?”
“Oh! yes, I did hear something, I recollect—but, at the time, I never minded, because I did not know, then, who that Miss Caroline Percy was—true, true, I recollect it now. And all, you know, we heard about her and Sir James Harcourt—was there not something there? By all accounts, it is plain she is not the simple country beauty she looks—practised!—practised! you see.”
Miss Georgiana Falconer’s only fear was, that Count Altenberg might not hear Lady Kew, who had lowered her voice to the note of mystery. Mrs. Falconer, who had accomplished her own judicious purpose, of accounting for Georgiana’s dislike of Miss Caroline Percy, was now afraid that her dear friends would overdo the business; she made many efforts to stop them, but once upon the scent of scandal, it was no easy matter to change the pursuit.
“You seem to have found something that has caught your attention delightfully, Count Altenberg,” said Mrs. Falconer; “how I envy any one who is completely in a book—what is it?”