IV.
Foxville House always was in commotion when Matilda had a hand in
it. When she was agitated, her agitation vibrated in every part of that spacious dwelling; and now she was stung to madness in such a way by Susy’s taunt that she rushed about like a maniac on fire. It was her worst policy, but she had lost the rudder of her discretion, and she cast herself adrift on the surging waves of her own fury.
From one apartment to another she flew in a whirlwind of passion in search of her mother, whom she would have found very near to Susy’s room if she had not darted downstairs with headlong precipitation. Up-stairs she flew again, and at length flounced into the room in which Mrs. Foxville was eagerly awaiting the issue of the consultation between her daughters.
“What has happened, Matilda?” asked Mrs. Foxville. “Your look startles me.”
“You will be startled!” gasped Matilda.
“Calm yourself, my child, and tell at your leisure what is amiss,” replied the mother, her words being at variance with her feverish anxiety for the news.
“What do you think, mamma? Nathaniel Wodehouse has had the audacity to propose to Susy!”
“Nathaniel Wodehouse! Without means! A beggar! I shall put a stop to that. No genteel poverty for me or either of my girls!”
“I was sure that you would save poor Susy! What is the use of his gentility with nothing to support it?”