"Oh! when may I go to Bath to dear Aunt Grizzy?" exclaimed she, as she finished the letter. Lady Juliana looked petrified. Then recollecting that this was the first intimation her mother had received of such an event being even in contemplation, she made haste to exculpate her aunt at her own expense, by informing her of the truth. But nothing could be more unpalatable than the truth; and poor Mary's short-lived joy was soon turned into the bitterest sorrow at the reproaches that were showered upon her by the incensed Lady Juliana. But for her these people never would have thought of coming to Bath; or if they did, she should have had no connection with them. She had been most excessively ill-used by Mr. Douglas's family, and had long since resolved to have no further intercourse with them—they were nothing to her, etc. etc. The whole concluding with a positive prohibition against Mary's taking any notice of her aunt. "From all that has been said, Mary," said Lady Emily gravely, "there can be no doubt but that you are the origin of Lady Juliana's unfortunate connection with the family of Douglas."
"Undoubtedly," said her Ladyship.
"But for you, it appears that she would not have known—certainly never would have acknowledged that her husband had an aunt?"
"Certainly not," said Lady Juliana, warmly.
"It is a most admirable plan," continued Lady Emily in the same manner, "and I shall certainly adopt it. When I have children I am determined they shall be answerable for my making a foolish marriage; and it shall be their fault if my husband has a mother. En attendant, I am determined to patronise Edward's relations to the last degree; and therefore, unless Mary is permitted to visit her aunt as often as she pleases, I shall make a point of bringing the dear Aunt Grizzy here. Yes" (Putting her hand to the bell), "I shall order my carriage this instant, and set off. To-morrow, you know, we give a grand dinner in honour of Adelaide's marriage. Aunt Grizzy shall be queen of the feast."
Lady Juliana was almost suffocated with passion; but she knew her niece too well to doubt her putting her threat into execution, and there was distraction in the idea of the vulgar obscure Grizzy Douglas being presented to a fashionable party as her aunt. After a violent altercation, in which Mary took no part, an ungracious permission was at length extorted, which Mary eagerly availed herself of; and, charged with kind messages from Lady Emily, set off in quest of Aunt Grizzy and the green door.
After much trouble, and many unsuccessful attacks upon green doors and balconies, she was going to give up the search in despair, when her eye was attracted by the figure of Aunt Grizzy herself at full length, stationed at a window, in an old-fashioned riding-habit and spectacles. The carriage was stopped and in an instant Mary was in the arms of her aunt, all agitation, as Lochmarlie flashed on her fancy, at again hearing its native accents uttered by the voice familiar to her from infancy. Yet the truth must be owned, Mary's taste was somewhat startled, even while her heart warmed at the sight of the good old aunt. Association and affection still retained their magical influence over her; but absence had dispelled the blest illusions of habitual intercourse; and for the first time she beheld her aunt freed from its softening spell. Still her heart clung to her, as to one known and loved from infancy; and she Soon rose superior to the weakness she felt was besetting her in the slight sensation of shame, as she contrasted her awkward manner and uncouth accent with the graceful refinement of those with whom she associated.
Far different were the sensations with which the good spinster regarded her niece. She could not often enough declare her admiration of the improvements that had taken place. Mary was grown taller, and stouter, and fairer and fatter, and her back was a straight as an arrow, and her carriage would even surprise Miss M'Gowk herself. It was quite astonishing to see her, for she had always understood Scotland was the place for beauty, and that nobody ever came to anything in England. Even Sir Sampson and Lady Maclaughlan were forgot as she stood riveted in admiration, and Mary was the first to recall her recollection to them. Sir Sampson, indeed, might well have been overlooked by a more accurate observer; for, as Grizzy observed, he was worn away to nothing, and the little that remained seemed as if it might have gone too without being any loss. He was now deaf, paralytic, and childish, and the only symptom of life he showed was an increased restlessness and peevishness. His lady sat by him, calmly pursuing her work, and, without relaxing from it, merely held up her face to salute Mary as she approached her.
"So I'm glad you are no worse than you was, dear child," surveying her from head to foot; "that's more than we can say. You see these poor creatures," pointing to Sir Sampson and Aunt Grizzy. "They are much about it now. Well, we know what we are, but God knows what we shall be—humph!"
Sir Sampson showed no signs of recognising her, but seemed pleased when
Grizzy resumed her station beside him; and began for the five hundredth
time to tell him why he was not in Lochmarlie Castle, and why he was in
Bath.