When there suddenly came a dash and roll of rapid wheels, ringing into all the echoes. Suddenly, with a gleam and bound, a splendid apparition crossed the window, and two magnificent bay-horses drove up before the little gate. Her very watch, new and well-beloved, almost fell from the fingers of Agnes. They looked at each other with blank faces—they listened in horror to the charge of artillery immediately discharged upon their door—nobody had self-possession to apprehend Susan on the way, and exhort her to remember the best room. And Susan, greatly fluttered, forgot the sole use of this sacred apartment. They all stood dismayed, deeply sensible of the tea upon the table, and the extraordinary confusion of the room, when suddenly into the midst of them, radiant and splendid, floated Mrs Edgerley—Mayfair come to visit Bellevue.
CHAPTER XXXII.
A GREAT VISITOR.
Mayfair came in, radiant, blooming, splendid, with a rustle of silks, a flutter of feathers, an air of fragrance, like a fairy creature not to be molested by the ruder touches of fortune or the world. Bellevue stood up to receive her in the person of Mrs Atheling, attired in a black silk gown which had seen service, and hastily setting down a cup of tea from her hand. The girls stood between the two, an intermediate world, anxious and yet afraid to interpret between them; for Marian’s beautiful hair had fallen down upon her white neck, and Agnes’s collar had been pulled awry, and her pretty muslin dress sadly crushed and broken by the violent hands of Bell and Beau. The very floor on which Mrs Edgerley’s pretty foot pressed the much-worn carpet, was strewed with little frocks for those unruly little people. The sofa was occupied by three bonnets, and Mamma’s new dress hung over the back of the easy-chair. You may laugh at this account of it, but Mamma, and Marian, and Agnes were a great deal more disposed to cry at the reality. To think that, of all days in the world, this great lady should have chosen to come to-day!
“Now, pray don’t let me disturb anything. Oh, I am so delighted to find you quite at home! It is quite kind of you to let me come in,” cried Mrs Edgerley—“and indeed you need not introduce me. When one has read Hope Hazlewood, one knows your mamma. Oh, that charming, delightful book! Now, confess you are quite proud of her. I am sure you must be.”
“She is a very good girl,” said Mrs Atheling doubtfully, flattered, but not entirely pleased—“and we are very deeply obliged to Mrs Edgerley for the kindness she has shown to our girls.”
“Oh, I have been quite delighted,” said Mayfair; “but pray don’t speak in the third person. How charmingly fragrant your tea is!—may I have some? How delightful it must be to be able to keep rational hours. What lovely children! What beautiful darlings! Are they really yours?”
“My youngest babies,” said Bellevue, somewhat stiffly, yet a little moved by the question. “We have just come in, and were fatigued. Agnes, my dear!”
But Agnes was already gone, seizing the opportunity to amend her collar, while Marian put away the bonnets, and cleared the parcels from the feet of Mrs Edgerley. With this pretty figure half-bending before her, and the other graceful cup-bearer offering her the homely refreshment she had asked for, Mrs Edgerley, though quite aware of it, did not think half so much as Mrs Atheling did about their “rank in life.” The great lady was not at all nervous on this subject, but was most pleasantly and meritoriously conscious, as she took her cup of tea from the hand of Agnes, that by so doing she set them all “at their ease.”
“And pray, do tell me now,” said Mrs Edgerley, “how you manage in this quarter, so far from everything? It is quite delightful, half as good as a desolate island—such a pretty, quiet place! You must come to the Willows—I have quite made up my mind and settled it: indeed, you must come—so many people are dying to know you. And I must have your mamma know,” said the pretty flutterer, turning round to Mrs Atheling with that air of irresistible caprice and fascinating despotism which was the most amazing thing in the world to the family mother, “that no one ever resists me: I am always obeyed, I assure you. Oh, you must come; I consider it quite a settled thing. Town gets so tiresome just at this time—don’t you think so? I always long for the Willows—for it is really the sweetest place, and in the country one cares so much more for one’s home.”
“You are very kind,” said Mrs Atheling, not knowing what other answer to make, and innocently supposing that her visitor had paused for a reply.