"It's no use to bother, Elizabeth," replied he, roughly; "I cannot stay, and Jane shall not, and there's an end of it."
"Well, I can only say I am very sorry; I am sure we shall be dreadfully dull when you are gone."
Even this prospect caused no relenting in the heart of the obdurate Robert, who still persisted in his plan, perhaps, with the more zest because he delighted in tormenting both his wife and sisters.
"When shall you come and see us at Croydon, Elizabeth?" said her sister-in-law, after a short pause; "there are several things I want very much to show you. You should see the curtains—the new curtains in the drawing-room—they look so handsome—all my choice: it is not everybody who can choose curtains to advantage—requires great tact and judgment."
"It does not require any marvellous judgment to empty a husband's purse, guessing from the wonderful facility some ladies of my acquaintance display," growled Robert, from behind the Weekly London Newspaper, which his father took in second-hand. "Positively, this paper is a fortnight old: what a place—I saw it before I left Croydon—one might as well be buried alive!"
During this soliloquy, Elizabeth without listening in the least to her brother, was eagerly replying to Mrs. Robert's offer.
"You are extremely kind Jane, to give me such pleasure; you know there is nothing I should like better, but I must not think of it—indeed I must not. I do not think my father would like my leaving home whilst he is so ill. Margaret is so useless a housekeeper, and hates the trouble so much—and Emma being the youngest, perhaps it would not do: if Pen were at home, it would be different: she makes a capital housekeeper, and she amuses my father when he is well too—I think when Pen comes back, I think I might be tempted."
"I should think our house might offer a very pleasant change to any young lady shut up so much as you are in this miserable place. I am sure most of my friends are more anxious to stay than go."
"Oh, it is not that I doubt the pleasure," replied Elizabeth; "it would be a great treat to me, I am sure. But you must not be angry at my refusing now."
"Angry! I am not a person to be angry about trifles—it is not my way to fret or take on, I leave that for those who have no other way of showing their dignity but by growling at everything. People blessed with my birth and education need not resort to such pitiful means to look grand and important."