"That is so like her," observed Miss Bennet, "she takes no pleasure in a little fun herself; consequently thinks it's wrong any one else should. Now, children, be off," she continued, looking round, but they were nowhere to be seen, having fled in dismay at the first sight of Mrs. Linchmore.
"Are you going out?" asked she, placing her hand on Amy's arm.
"Only for a short time."
"Then for that short time I will be your companion,—that is if you like."
Amy expressed her pleasure, and they were soon walking at a brisk pace round the shrubbery.
Julia Bennet had no pretensions to beauty, though not by any manner of means a plain girl. She had a very fair, almost transparent complexion, and small, fairy hands and feet. She was a good-natured, merry girl, one who seldom took any pains to disguise her faults or thoughts, and consequently was frequently in scrapes, from which she as often cleverly extricated herself. If she liked persons they soon found it out, or if she disliked them they did not long remain in ignorance of it; not that she made them acquainted with the fact point blank, but no trouble was taken to please; they were totally overlooked. Not being pretty, no envious belles were jealous of her, and young men were not obliged to pay her compliments. Nor, indeed, had she been pretty, would they have ventured to do what she most assuredly would have made them regret; yet she was a great favourite with most people, never wanted a partner at a ball, but would be sought out for a dance when many other girls with greater pretensions to beauty were neglected. She was a cousin of Mr. Linchmore's, the youngest of five sisters, only one of whom was married. Julia gazed over her shoulder at her companion's hat, dress, and shawl; nothing escaped her penetrating glance. She was rarely silent, but had always something to say, although not so inveterate a talker as her sister Anne. The latter, however, insisted that she was more so, and had resolutely transferred the name of "Magpie" or "Maggy," with which her elder sisters had nicknamed her, to Julia.
"I have quite spoilt Isabella's temper for to-day," began Julia. "She will remember that romp, as she calls it, for ages to come. I cannot help laughing either, when I think of the figure I must have been when I met her. Now confess, Miss Neville, did I not look a perfect fright?"
"You looked warm and tired, certainly,"
"Warm and tired! Now do not speak in that measured way, so exactly like Isabella, when I was as red as this," and she pointed to the scarlet feather in her hat, "and as for tired, I was panting for breath like that dreadful old pet dog of hers. Well, I am glad I have made you laugh; but do not, please, Miss Neville, if we are to be friends, speak so like Isabella again. I hate it, and that's the truth."
"I will not, if I know it, but will say yes or no, if you like it best, and wish it."