“My dears, I have no reason to distrust your good sense,” said Mrs Atheling, “nor indeed to be afraid of you in any way—but to be in a strange house is very different from being at home. Strangers will not have the same indulgence as we have had for all your fancies—you must not expect it; and people may see that you are of a different rank in life, and perhaps may presume upon you. You must be very careful. You must not copy Mrs Edgerley, or any other lady, but observe what they do, and rule yourselves by it; and take great care what acquaintances you form; for even in such a house as that,” said Mamma, with emphasis and dignity, suddenly remembering the “connection of the family” of whom Mrs Edgerley had spoken, “there may be some who are not fit companions for you.”
“Yes, mamma,” said Agnes. Marian looked down into the apronful of lace and muslin, and answered nothing. A variable blush and as variable a smile testified to a little consciousness on the part of the younger sister. Agnes for once was the more matter-of-fact of the two.
“At your time of life,” continued the anxious mother, “a single day may have as much effect as many years. Indeed, Marian, my love, it is nothing to smile about. You must be very careful; and, Agnes, you are the eldest—you must watch over your sister. Oh, take care!—you do not know how much harm might be done in a single day.”
“Take care of what, mamma?” said Marian, glancing up quickly, with that beautiful faint blush, and a saucy gleam in her eye. What do you suppose she saw as her beautiful eyes turned from her mother with a momentary imaginative look into the vacant space? Not the big head of Charlie, bending over the grammars, but the magnificent stature of Sir Langham Portland, drawn up in sentry fashion by her side; and at the recollection Marian’s pretty lip could not refuse to smile.
“Hush, my dear!—you may easily know what I mean,” said Mrs Atheling uneasily. “You must try not to be awkward or timid; but you must not forget how great a difference there is between Mrs Edgerley’s friends and you.”
“Nonsense, Mary,” cried her husband, energetically. “No such thing, girls. Don’t be afraid to let them know who you are, or who you belong to. But as for inferiority, if you yield to such a notion, you are no girls of mine! One of the Riverses! A pretty thing! You, at least, can tell any one who asks the question that your father is an honest man.”
“But I suppose, papa, no one is likely to have any doubt upon the subject,” said Agnes, with a little spirit. “It will be time enough to publish that when some one questions it; and that, I am sure, was not what mamma meant.”
“No, my love, of course not,” said Mamma, who was somewhat agitated. “What I meant is, that you are going to people whom we used to know—I mean, whom we know nothing of. They are great people—a great deal richer and higher in station than we are; and it is possible Papa may be brought into contact with them about the Old Wood Lodge; and you are young and inexperienced, and don’t know the dangers you may be subjected to;—and, my dear children, what I have to say to you is, just to remember your duty, and read your Bibles, and take care!”
“Mamma! we are only going to Richmond—we are not going away from you,” cried Marian in dismay.
“My dears,” said Mrs Atheling, putting her handkerchief to her eyes, “I am an old woman—I know more than you do. You cannot tell where you are going; you are going into the world.”