“I had forgotten what nice girls they were,” said Herbert; “Sophy especially; so kind and so genial and unaffected. How foolish one is when one is young! I don’t think I liked them, even, when we were last here.”
“They are sometimes too kind,” said Everard, shrugging his shoulders; but neither of the others took any notice of what he said.
“One is so much occupied with one’s self when one is young,” said middle-aged Reine, already over twenty, and feeling all the advantages which age bestows.
“Do you think it is that?” said Herbert. He was much affected by the cordiality of his cousins, and moved by many concurring causes to a certain sentimentality of mind; and he was not indisposed for a little of that semi-philosophical talk which sounds so elevating and so improving at his age.
“Yes,” said Reine, with confidence; “one is so little sure of one’s self, one is always afraid of having done amiss; things you say sound so silly when you think them over. I blush sometimes now when I am quite alone to think how silly I must have seemed; and that prevents you doing justice to others; but I like Kate best.”
“And I like Sophy best. She has no nonsense about her; she is so frank and so simple. Which is Everard for? On the whole, there is no doubt about it, English girls have a something, a je ne sais quoi—”
“I can’t give any opinion,” said Everard laughing. “After your visit to the Hatch you will be able to decide. And have you thought what Aunt Susan will say, within the first week, almost before you have been seen at home?”
“By Jove! I forgot Aunt Susan!” cried Herbert with a sudden pause; then he laughed, trying to feel the exquisite fun of asking Aunt Susan’s permission, while they were so independent of her; but this scarcely answered just at first. “Of course,” he added, with an attempt at self-assertion, “one cannot go on consulting Aunt Susan’s opinion forever.”
“But the first week!” Everard had all the delight of mischief in making them feel the subordination in which they still stood in spite of themselves. He went on laughing. “I would not say anything about it to-night. She is not half pleased with Madame Jean, as they call her. I hope Madame Jean has been getting it hot. Everything went off perfectly well by a miracle, but that woman as nearly spoiled it by her nonsense and her boy—”
“Whom do you call that woman?” said Herbert coldly. “I think Madame Jean did just what a warm-hearted person would do. She did not wait for mere ceremony or congratulations prearranged. For my part,” said Herbert stiffly, “I never admired any one so much. She is the most beautiful, glorious creature!”