“Good morning, Mrs Beverley. It is a surprise to see you here! No need to ask how you are.—You look the picture of health.”
“I’m not really. I’m bowed low with care. My domestic troubles are like my wedding presents, numerous and costly. The worst of all is the grocer. I never knew that a grocer’s shop was so alluring! I thought it was all teas and pickles, and dull things for cleaning that one can’t eat, but it’s a fiery furnace of temptation. I’ve been in ten minutes and I’ve spent pounds... And I came myself because I wanted to save!”
The matrons’ smile bore a touch of pathos. They themselves had suffered from grocers’ bills for many years, and knew the inevitableness thereof. Every woman who is at the head of a household must shoulder the burden of the grocer’s bill, and bear it bravely, for it is hers for life. Assiduous, unceasing care may at times relieve the pressure, but there can be no escape; the smallest slackening of care, and the burden presses once again, weighing her to the earth.
On almost any other subject the listeners would have been ready to converse with the interesting bride, but when it came to a choice between grocer’s bills and a new engagement, the engagement won at a canter.
“We were just discussing an exciting piece of news!” Mrs Gardiner said, smiling. “You have heard already, I suppose. Everybody is talking about it!”
Grizel’s face brightened instantly into the most agreeable animation.
“No! Tell me... What is it? Somebody run away with somebody else’s wife?”
“My dear!” Mrs Evans frowned disapproval. “This is not London. I am thankful to say we don’t do such things. We were speaking of an engagement in which we are much interested. You know the girl, of course. Teresa Mallison. We are so pleased to know of her happiness.”
“So am I. I love girls to be happy. I’d like them all to be engaged and married to-morrow to husbands nearly as nice as mine. And she has such a ripping complexion... Who is the happy man?”
This was the thrilling point. Mrs Gardiner beamed with importance.