“I have made up my mind. When we came here I never thought they would take any notice of us. Why should they have taken any notice of us—a couple of poor girls in a small cottage, not knowing anyone? I wanted just to see what kind of people they were, that was all,” said Nancy, earnestly. “I never thought of anything more. Why should they have thought of us at all? We were quite out of their way.”
“Well,” said Matilda, to whom it appeared that here was a good opportunity of showing her own superior judgment, “that was because you thought they were not very nice people. You made up your mind about them before you knew them. But they are nice people. I never wish to see a more kind lady than her ladyship is.”
“Matty, dear, I don’t mean to be nasty; but if you would say Lady Curtis, not her ladyship—remember that she is my mother-in-law.”
Once more that vivid blush, too bright for anything but pleasure, came over Nancy’s face. How much scorn, how much defiance, what attempts at insult she had lavished upon Lady Curtis’s name; but Arthur’s mother had called her my dear, had looked at her kindly with soft eyes; and it had come to pass, by some subtle process, that Nancy felt herself to belong to this soft-eyed lady more than she did to good honest Matilda, who had stood by her so stoutly, but who naturally retained the manners of her class, which was not Nancy’s class any more.
“Stuff and nonsense!” said Matilda. “She’s not my mother-in-law. She’s very kind, but she’s a deal superior to me; and I’ll speak respectful, whatever you think. They are nice people, as I was saying. Miss Lucy is what I call a perfect lady;” (this, too, jarred upon Nancy’s new-born fastidiousness; but she did not venture to hint that Miss Curtis would be more correct) “and when they saw two young women by themselves, like you and me, of course they took notice. In their own village, these sort of folks are like kings and queens,” said Matilda; “everything belongs to them. It’s not like just being better off. I understand the feeling myself; it’s like what mother used to have for the poor things in the court, to see they went on all straight and sent their children to school, and so forth. Mother was not a great lady, but she was known in the place, and took a charge like; and she was a good woman. There’s a kind of a likeness in good folks,” said Matilda, turning away her head. The mother’s loss was still recent, and made their eyes wet unawares when they spoke of her; but this time Nancy was too much preoccupied to enter into the allusion. Her own thoughts surged up and deadened her appreciation of what her sister said; though Matilda’s ideas, if not brilliant, were often the most sensible of the two.
“Yes,” said Nancy, after a pause; “that’s how it must be. I don’t want to leave this little place. I like it; I think I like the country. It may be dull, but it’s nice.”
“Very nice,” said Matilda, looking at her seventh chemise affectionately as she finished the trimming and folded it up, giving little pats of satisfaction to each fold, “when you have anything you want to get done with. I should have taken twice the time to do my things if we had stayed at Underhayes.”
“But we must go,” said Nancy, continuing. “We might have stayed on if they had taken no notice, if we had kept ourselves shut up, and not seen them; but it can’t be helped now. I will go to the Hall, just to see everything. Fancy sitting down at table with them, being like one of them! It will feel like a dream. Oh, I must, I must go just once! If ever Arthur should come back again—”
“Of course Arthur will come back again. If you tell them who you are, as you say you will, Arthur will come first train; and do you think nowadays that folks can hide themselves like they used to do in the story-books, Nancy? You may run away as much as you like, they’ll have you back again. They will set the detectives after you. Them that have far greater reason to hide than you have get found out, and do you think you can keep safe? Nonsense! Once tell them, and you’ll soon be fetched back.”
“Never!” cried Nancy. “Against my will, with detectives sent after me? I will go to New Zealand first with you, or anywhere. Never! It is not forcing that will ever hold me.”