As for Norton society, it welcomed Cornelia with open arms; that is to say, all the old ladies of Miss Briskett’s acquaintance called upon her, inquired if she liked England, and sent their maids round the following day with neat little notes inviting aunt and niece to take tea on a certain afternoon at half-past four o’clock. These tea-drinkings soon became a daily occurrence, and Cornelia’s attitude towards them was one of consecutive anticipation, amusement, and ennui. You dressed up in your best clothes; you sat in rows round a stuffy room; you drank stewed tea, and ate buttered cakes. You met every day the same—everlastingly the same ladies, dressed in the same garments, and listened every day to the same futile talk. From the older ladies, criticisms of last Sunday’s sermon, and details of household grievances; from the younger, “Have you seen Miss Horby’s new hat? Did you hear the latest about the Briggs? ... I’m going to have blue, with lace insertions...”
Cornelia bore it meekly for a week on end, and then she struck. Two notes were discovered lying upon the breakfast-table containing invitations to two more tea-parties. “So kind of them! You will like to go, won’t you, my dear?” said Miss Briskett, pouring out coffee.
“No, I shan’t, then!” answered Cornelia, ladling out bacon. Her curling lips were pressed together, her flexible eyebrows wrinkled towards the nose. If Edward B Briskett had been present he would have recognised signals of breakers ahead! “I guess I’m about full up of tea-parties. I’m not going to any more, this side Jordan!”
“Not going, my dear?” Miss Briskett choked with mingled amazement and dismay. “Why not, if you please? You have no other engagements. My friends pay you the honour of an invitation. It is my wish that you accept. You surely cannot mean what you are saying!”
She stared across the table in her most dignified and awe-inspiring fashion, but Cornelia refused to meet her eyes, devoting her entire attention to the consumption of her breakfast.
“You bet I do!”
“Cornelia, how often must I beg you not to use that exceedingly objectionable expression? I ask you a simple question; please answer it without exaggeration. Why do you object to accompany me to these two parties?”
“Because it’s a waste of time. It’s against my principles to have the same tooth drawn six times over. I know all I want to about tea-parties in England, and I’m ready to pass on to something fresh. I’d go clean crazed if I’d to sit through that performance again.”
“I am sorry you have been so bored. I hoped you had enjoyed yourself,” said Miss Briskett, stiffly, but with an underlying disappointment in her tone, which Cornelia was quick to recognise. The imps of temper and obstinacy which had peeped out of her golden eyes suddenly disappeared from view, and she nodded a cheery reassurement.
“I wasn’t a mite bored at the start. I loved going round with you and seeing your friends, but I have seen them, and they’ve seen me, and we said all we want to, so that trick is played out. You can’t go on drinking tea with the same old ladies all the days of your life? Why can’t they hit on something fresh?”