As Mabel had anticipated, there was little difficulty in getting Mrs. Villars's consent, when it was formally demanded by Clair, for in this piece of unexpected good fortune she hoped to find, at least a temporary respite, from the malice of her two disappointed children. In this, however, she was mistaken, for the marriage of their sister was no satisfaction to their jealous minds, and they did not fail to show their impression of their mother's injustice, on every occasion, and quite destroyed the pleasure she would have taken in providing Lucy's trousseau.
Mr. Villars looked upon the marriages as peculiar pet schemes of his own, and laid aside his writings to aid Mabel and Lucy in the choice of dresses and laces, with the most perfect good-humour and enjoyment. And when Lucy spoke with regret of leaving him, and felt half inclined to delay her marriage, for his sake, he would not hear of it, declaring that he should keep up a constant correspondence with both, and whenever he felt dull, if it were possible now that he had so much to do and to think of, he should run over and see them, wherever they were, and so recruit his spirits. For the present, he was almost their constant companion, for both Hargrave and Clair had so much to do, in a little time, that they had very little leisure at their disposal. There were settlements to be drawn, and Hargrave's was a very long one, licenses to procure, and a great many things besides, which, on such an occasion, were of no small importance. Besides which they were planning a visit together to Aston.
On the afternoon before they started, however, they accompanied Mr. Villars and his fair companions on a shopping expedition, and a pleasant afternoon they managed to spend. Hargrave, too, had his purchases to make, which he did with some pride in his own taste, of some beautiful Irish poplins, which he ordered to be directed, with his compliments, to Mrs. and the Misses Villars, together with some lace scarfs, which he thought would look very pretty at the wedding.
In due time they were delivered, and opened with much pleasure by Mrs. Villars and her daughter Selina, who seemed as tranquilly placid as ever, as if determined to find pleasure herself, whatever happened. She was just in the act of gathering the material in her fingers to see how well it would look made up, when Caroline entered.
"What is all this?" she cried, looking round upon Hargrave's present.
"Oh, my dear," said her mother, anxiously, "these beautiful poplins are from Henry Hargrave, who begs our acceptance of them, and hopes we will wear them at the wedding."
"And what do you mean to do with them?" enquired Caroline, looking at her fiercely.
"Why to wear them, of course, my dear; will you not do the same?"
"Not I, neither will you; I will have no such cringing ways done within my knowledge." Here she looked significantly at her mother, and then walking to the table, she began, deliberately, to refold the dresses, which they suffered her to do without interruption, hoping that she was relenting towards them. But when she had carefully folded every rumpled yard of the dresses, she placed them as carefully in their separate papers, and then tying them altogether, she wrote on the outside, and rang the bell.
"What are you doing, dear Cary?" cried Selina.