CHAPTER VII.
… “The lovely light of Innisfail,
Hides within her shadiest bow’r and weeps.”
When Julia heard Frances approaching, she was, for the first time in her life, guilty of artifice; she snatched up a book, and appeared to be busily engaged reading. Frances rang the bell, then went towards a looking glass, and began to take pins out of her dress.
“Do you know, Julia,” she said, “I think that Edmund and Lady Susan will be married after all!” Julia pretended not to hear, and in reality did not see, (correctly at least) for the words on the open page before her seemed quitting their ranks, and mingling in one disorderly maze. This however was of little importance, as she had held the book upside down from the first.
“I can’t but think of all Edmund’s resolutions,” pursued Frances, laughing, and continuing the preparations for her toilet, without noticing the effect of her information upon Julia. The entrance of Alice here put an end to the subject.
“What shall we wear to day, love?” asked Frances.
“Wear——?” repeated her sister.
“Yes, what dress shall we wear?”
“Oh—whatever you like, love.”