"No, indeed; I thought of Aunt Tomkins, but the truth is, I could not request her to do it without sending invitations to the whole family, which I concluded would not be advisable: there are so many of them, and as they would not be acquainted with the rest of the company, it seemed best not to have any of them. I thought, too, of old Mrs. Joyce, who sometimes does quilting and knitting for me, but she has a large family of grandchildren, some of whom she always drags with her when she goes to where there is any thing good to eat; and it would never do to have them poking their fingers into the refreshments. So it struck me that perhaps you might oblige me. You don't appear to care for parties, and as you would be a stranger in the room, it is not likely you would have much enjoyment. Of course, if I believed you would prefer the trouble of dressing, and taking your chance among the company, I would not ask it of you."
Nothing daunted by the glow of indignation which followed a look of astonishment on the face of Cousin Sabina, she paused for a reply. After a moment's reflection, Miss Incledon answered calmly, "I am your guest, Sarah—dispose of me as you please;" and returning her cap and white gloves to their boxes, she refastened her wrapper to enter upon the office assigned to her.
The party passed off with the crowding, crushing, talking and eating common to parties. The supper was a handsome one—for Mr. Smith wisely decided that if the thing must be done at all, it should be done well—and therefore he had hinted no restrictions to his wife as to the expense. Many "regrets" had been sent in, but still Mrs. Smith was at the post she had coveted for years—that of receiving a fashionable assemblage in her own house; and if her choicest guests courted her notice as little as they would have done any where else, she was too much elated and flustered, and overheated to think about it. One of her principal concerns was to keep her eye on her husband, who, being a shy, timid man, with very little tact, was not much calculated for playing the host on such an occasion. He had, however, been doing better than she expected, when, a little before supper, he wandered through the crowd to where she was standing, for the moment, alone, and asked, "Where is Cousin Sabina?"
"In the supper-room. It is necessary at such times to have some one behind the scenes, and I had to get her to remain in the supper-room, to watch that things went on properly; and, in particular, to see that none of the silver was carried off, nor the refreshments wasted after supper."
Mr. Smith looked disturbed, and exclaimed, rather too loudly, "Is it possible that you could ask a woman like Sabina Incledon to do such a thing! one of my most respectable relations, and a visiter in my house?"
"Don't speak so loudly. I left out all my own relations, and I dare say they would, any of them, have looked as creditably as Sabina Incledon. When we have established our own standing, Mr. Smith, it will be time enough for us to bring out such people as your Cousin Sabina. To be sure, if I had had any one to trust in her place, I should not have objected at all to her coming in."
Mrs. Smith was turning away, when she saw, at her elbow, Mrs. Goldsborough and Miss Pendleton, who must have overheard the conversation. To her it was the mortification of the evening.
The next morning at the breakfast-table Mrs. Smith was too much occupied in descanting upon the events of the night, describing the dresses, and detailing the commendations on different viands of the supper, to notice that Miss Incledon spoke but little, and when she did, with more dignity and gravity than usual. On rising from the table, she unlocked the sideboard, and taking from it a basket of silver, she said, "I would thank you, Cousin Sabina, to assort these forks and spoons for me. It will be something of a task, as they have to go to half a dozen different places. When you have got through I will look over them to see that all is right;" and she was hurrying off to commence some of the multifarious duties of the day.
"Excuse me, Sarah," said Miss Incledon; "I'll expect that a carriage will be here in a few minutes to take me into the country."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Smith, looking disappointed and somewhat displeased; "I thought I should have your assistance in putting away things—I had no idea of your leaving us to-day."