“But you know, my dear,” continued Lady Jane, without hearing or attending to this, “you know, my dear, that Rosamond, though a very good girl and very sensible, I am sure, yet she has not your personal advantages, and I could do nothing for her in town, except, perhaps, introduce her at Mrs. Cator’s, and Lady Spilsbury’s, or Lady Angelica Headingham’s conversazione—Rosamond has a mixture of naïveté and sprightliness that is new, and might take. If she had more courage, and would hazard more in conversation, if she had, in short, l’art de se faire valoir, one could hand her verses about, and get her forward in the bel-esprit line. But she must stay till we have brought you into fashion, my dear, and another winter, perhaps—Well, my love, I will not keep you up longer. On Monday, if you please, we shall go—since you say you are sure your father is in earnest, in giving you leave to decide for yourself.”
What was Lady Jane Granville’s astonishment, when she heard Caroline decline, with polite thanks, her kind invitation!
Her ladyship stood silent with suspended indignation.
“This cannot be your own determination, child?”
“I beg your ladyship’s pardon—it is entirely my own. When a person is convinced by good reasons, those reasons surely become their own. But independently of all the arguments which I have heard from my father and mother, my own feelings must prevent me from leaving home in our present circumstances. I cannot quit my parents and my sister, now they are, comparatively speaking, in distress. Neither in prosperity nor in adversity do I wish to leave my family, but certainly not in adversity.”
“High-flown notions! Your family is not in any great distress, that I see: there is a change, to be sure, in the style of life; but a daughter more, you know only increases the—the difficulties.”
“I believe my father and mother do not think so,” said Caroline; “and till they do, I wish to stay with them, and share their fortune, whatever it may be.”
“I have done—as you please—you are to decide for yourself, Miss Caroline Percy: this is your final determination?”
“It is,” said Caroline; “but permit me,” added she, taking Lady Jane’s hand, and endeavouring by the kindest tone of gratitude to avert the displeasure which she saw gathering, “permit me to assure you, that I am truly grateful for your kindness, and I hope—I am sure, that I never shall forget it.”
Lady Jane drew away her hand haughtily. “Permit me to assure you, Miss Caroline Percy, that there are few, very few young ladies indeed, even among my own nearest relations, to whom I would have undertaken to be chaperon. I do not know another young lady in England to whom I would have made the offer I have made to you, nor would that offer ever have been made could I reasonably have foreseen the possibility of its being refused. Let us say no more, ma’am, if you please—we understand one another now—and I wish you a good night.”