“I shall be delighted to make them for you,” Blanche replied pleasantly.
And the perfect good taste of her manner increased the favourable impression she had created.
Indeed, that afternoon at Alderwood bade fair to see her and her sister exalted into the rank of heroines. It was plain that “taking up” the Derwents was to be the fashion in the neighbourhood, and to a less entirely single-minded and well-balanced nature than Blanche’s, the position would not have been without its risks. But, without cynicism, she appreciated the whole at its just value. The neglect and indifference and stupid exclusiveness shown to them during their first few lonely months in England had been a lesson not lost upon her, all the more that she had in no way exaggerated its causes.
“There are lots of kind people in the world, I suppose,” she said to Stasy, whose head was much more in danger of being turned than her own. “But there are not many who go out of their way to make others happier, like dear Lady Hebe, or to help them practically, like kind Mrs Bracy; and the sort of attention that comes from ones being in any way prominent is really worth very little.”
“I know,” Stasy agreed. “People are very like sheep; still, Blanche, the Enneslies are very nice girls. You are not going to advise mamma not to let me go to see them, when they asked me so very kindly, and not at all in a patronising way. You have always wanted me to have nice companions.”
“Mamma can judge much better than I,” said Blanche. “I should not think of advising her one way or the other, though I hope she will let you go to spend a day with the Enneslies.”
“Really,” said Stasy, “if it’s to be made such a fuss about, I’d much rather not go; if I were a poor apprentice, I should be allowed ‘a day out’ now and then, I suppose.”
For Stasy’s temper just now was, to say the least, capricious. She was growing tired of the steady work required of her, now that the first blush of novelty and excitement had worn off. And this invitation to the Enneslies, a simple and informal affair, such as there could be no possible objection to for any girl of her age, was but the precursor of others, which, while they gratified Mrs Derwent to a certain extent, yet gave her cause for a great deal of consideration and some anxiety.
“Stasy is too young,” she said to Blanche, “too young and excitable to go out, even in this ungrownup way, as much as would now be the case if we laid ourselves out for it. And for her it would not be the simple sort of thing that it is for girls in an ordinary position. Wherever we go, you would just at present be more or less picked out for notice and attention, and however kindly that may be meant, it would not be good for Stasy.”
“Nor for me either, mamma,” said Blanche. “I dare say I should get very spoilt. I know I feel dreadfully lazy after these garden-parties and things of the kind, and disinclined to do anything at all.”