When the ceremony was performed, the breakfast over, and the new married couple had left the house, Lady Osborne retired to her dressing-room, and thither she sent for Mr. Howard. Without the slightest suspicion as to the real object of her wishes, he obeyed the summons, and found her ladyship alone.
She requested him to be seated, and then looked exceedingly embarrassed, and not a little silly; but after some attempts at conversation, which ended in total failures, she suddenly observed:
"The marriage of my daughter makes a great difference to me, Mr. Howard."
"Of course it must," replied he, rather wondering what would come next.
"I fear I shall find myself very uncomfortable if I continue in the same style of life I have done before; without Miss Osborne I shall be quite lost."
Mr. Howard could not help thinking that he should have supposed few mothers would have felt the change so little. They had never been companions or appeared of any consequence to each other. However he felt it his duty to make some cheering observation, and therefore ventured to suggest that her ladyship should not give way to such desponding thoughts: she might, perhaps, find it less painful than she anticipated.
"You are very kind to try to cheer me in my melancholy situation, but, Mr. Howard, I have always found you so, and I am deeply indebted to you for the many hours of comfort you have at different times procured for me. You have always been my friend."
He did not at all know what to say to this speech, and was therefore silent.
"Do you consider," continued she, "that gratitude is a good foundation for happiness in the married state?"
"It is, no doubt, a good foundation for affection," replied he, "but unless the superstructure is raised, I do not think the foundation will be of much use. It is not sufficient of itself."