“It is very kind of Lady Curtis to come,” said Nancy, with difficulty. She could not withdraw her eyes from the two. And Lucy looked at her from behind her mother with again a thrill of wonder and suspicion. Why was she so much agitated? what was there to be agitated about?
“I hope you like our village,” said Lady Curtis; “very few people see it, except the people of the place, so it is not admired so much as it ought to be, we think. It is a pretty village; but I trust you may not find it very dull as the winter goes on.”
“Oh, we do not look for much; we are used to living very quietly—”
“That is well,” said Lady Curtis; “for Oakley is very quiet—so quiet in winter that I much fear you will be frightened. Any stranger passing by is an event. To-day for instance, it was quite gay; a pedlar’s cart, a most picturesque object—and when you two ladies appeared, whom I had not seen before, it became quite exciting. Hyde Park is seldom so full of novelty to me.”
They both stared at her a little, not knowing what to say.
“The cart looked quite cheerful,” said Matilda; “I thought just like your ladyship says. Some of the baskets were quite pretty, and it was nice to see it. But I could not persuade Na—my sister, to buy any,” she concluded hurriedly. What a glance of fire shot at her from Nancy’s eyes!
“We did not want them,” she said; drawing a step nearer. She was too restless to sit down; her heart indeed beat more quietly, and her breathing was calmer; but to be here in the same room with them both, talking to them indifferently, as if she did not know them, as if she was not devoured with anxiety to conciliate them!—though a touch too much might have driven her on the other side to defy them openly. For the first time, Nancy felt how little she could depend on herself. They might say something, they might even look something, that would offend her, and send her off at a tangent. She felt no strength in her to guide herself. At present, even, while there was neither offence nor rapprochement, how wild and breathless she was, how incapable of managing the situation! It must depend altogether on what they would do or say.
“You have resources, I see,” said Lady Curtis, “Books secure one against everything. But—” she added, shutting one hastily, which she had opened on the table. “This is not common reading. Is it a girl-graduate in her golden hair that we have got among us without knowing.” She smiled graciously as she spoke. And Nancy grew red, and grew pale, and sat down, though only because her limbs trembled under her.
“I know—very little,” she said, humbly, scarcely able to command her voice.
“But she is not a girl at all,” said Matilda. “She is a married woman, though you would scarcely think it, my lady; and she is very fond of her book. Na—Anna, show her ladyship that beautiful drawing you are doing; that is what she thinks of most.”