Mrs. Arnold's assumed earnestness of manner was indeed flattery of the seventh degree to the superficial Mr. Featherstone. He was transported to empyrean air. Mrs. Arnold had insight and her opinion was something to cherish. Poor Mr. Featherstone!
The conversation that followed was extravagant to the highest degree, and he went away that evening in a state of great disquietude, wondering why it was that it had not been his good fortune to meet his ideal of female loveliness ere she was wedded to another.
"That miserable bore! I am late in writing mamma's letter. I really
wonder what she would say if she saw me flirting with the Hon. Cecil
Featherstone! but I must be cautious, for I want the simple-minded
Madge to share my blissful fate."
A servant in livery entered in answer to the summons of the bell-rope.
"Has James gone for the evening mail, Watkins?" demanded Mrs. Arnold in an imperious tone.
"He has not gone yet, my lady."
"Go and see how long before he does."
"Yes, my lady," said the servant, bowing very low, and with an air that seemed to say he was in the presence of royalty. The said Watkins had seen service in distinguished families, and the habit, though a ridiculous one, had become second nature, he invariably addressing every woman of fashion as "my lady."
Mrs. Arnold was pleased to learn that she could put her plan into execution without a moment's delay, and being a rapid writer she wrote and sealed a formidable-looking document, which she styled "mamma's letter," and within a few minutes saw it safe in the mail-bag awaiting the arrival of James, the trustworthy footman.
What the letter contained and its effects upon the different members of her family will follow in another chapter.