Next morning—ah! next morning, there was the rub!—Edgar would have to face Lady Augusta, and Gussy her mother, and Mr. Tottenham, who felt himself by this time an accomplice, his justly indignant wife; besides that the latter unfortunate gentleman had also to go to the shop, and face the resignations offered to himself, and deadly feuds raised amongst his “assistants,” by the preliminaries of last night. In the meantime, all the culprits tried hard not to think of the terrible moment that awaited them, and I think the lovers succeeded. Lovers have the best of it in such emergencies; the enchanted ground of recollection and imagination to which they can return being more utterly severed from the common world than any other refuge.
The members of the party who remained longest up were Lady Augusta and Ada, who sat over the fire in the mother’s bed-room, and discussed everything with a generally satisfied and cheerful tone in their communings.
“Gussy came home with Uncle Tottenham in his brougham,” said Ada. “She has gone to bed. She was out in her district a long time this morning, and I think she is very tired to-night.”
“Oh, her district!” cried Lady Augusta. “I like girls to think of the poor, my dear—you know I do—I never oppose anything in reason; but why Gussy should work like a slave, spoiling her hands and complexion, and exposing herself in all weathers for the sake of her district! And it is not as if she had no opportunities. I wish you would speak to her, Ada. She ought to marry, if it were only for the sake of the boys; and why she is so obstinate, I cannot conceive.”
“Mamma, don’t say so—you know well enough why,” said Ada quietly. “I don’t say you should give in to her; but at least you know.”
“Well, I must say I think my daughters have been hard upon me,” said Lady Augusta, with a sigh—“even you, my darling—though I can’t find it in my heart to blame you. But, to change the subject, did you notice, Ada, how well Harry was looking? Dear fellow! he has got over his little troubles with your father. Tottenham’s has done him good; he always got on well with Mary and your odd, good uncle. Harry is so good-hearted and so simple-minded, he can get on with anybody; and I quite feel that I had a good inspiration,” said Lady Augusta, with a significant nod of her head, “when I sent him there. I am sure it has been for everybody’s good.”
“In what way, mamma?” said Ada, who was not at all so confident in Harry’s powers.
“Well, dear, he has been on the spot,” said Lady Augusta; “he has exercised an excellent influence. When poor Edgar, poor dear fellow, came up to me to-night, I could not think what to do for the best, for I expected Gussy to appear any moment; and even Mary and Beatrice, had they seen him, would have made an unnecessary fuss. But he took the hint at my first glance. I can only believe it was dear Harry’s doing, showing him the utter hopelessness—Poor fellow!” said Lady Augusta, putting her handkerchief to her eyes. “Oh! my dear, how inscrutable are the ways of Providence! Had things been ordered otherwise, what a comfort he might have been to us—what a help!”
“When you like him so well yourself, mamma,” said gentle Ada, “you should understand poor Gussy’s feelings, who was always encouraged to think of him—till the change came.”
“That is just what I say, dear,” said Lady Augusta; “if things had been ordered otherwise! We can’t change the arrangements of Providence, however much we may regret them. But at least it is a great comfort about dear Harry. How well he was looking!—and how kind and affectionate! I almost felt as if he were a boy again, just come from school, and so glad to see his people. It was by far the greatest pleasure I had to-night.”