Mrs. Bray had drawn Lucy’s hand into her lap, and was stroking it softly.
“Ah, my dear,” she said, “don’t be hard on me for my vanity! Wait till you’ve been married fifty years yourself, and your husband brings you such a dress, and tells you that he does not think anybody but you would do it justice! Think of that, my dear! I see that sweet speech written between all the flounces and furbelows. How can you expect me to keep my eyes off such finery as that?”
“It is very beautiful!” murmured Lucy. But the old lady knew that her real answer was in the quivering clasp of the hand lying in her own.
“How would you like to see mamma in such a dress as that, Hugh?” asked Mrs. Brand.
Hugh gave his head a quaint little shake, as if such an idea was very grand; but he added—
“I shouldn’t be able to sit on her knee.”
“Ah, but you’ll be a grown-up man before your mamma will deserve such a dress!” answered the old lady archly. “Ay, my dear,” she whispered aside to Lucy, “if my little ones had lived to give me grandchildren and great-grandchildren to come crowding round me, maybe I should not have cared so much for this dress, and maybe, too, Mr. Bray would not have been able to afford to give it to me.”
“I’m glad to see Rachel is still with you!” said Mrs. Brand, as the maid once more took away the gorgeous garment. “I remember hearing something about her being engaged to be married, and, as I didn’t see her the last time I was here—it was at a reception, so I could not ask questions—I thought maybe the event had come off.”
Mrs. Bray shook her head.
“No,” she said, “the event has not come off—it will not come off. The man is dead—died in India. He was a non-commissioned officer, you know. I daresay it is all for the best for Rachel. I tell her so. He had been away more than three years, and, as I say to her, who knows what habits he may have acquired. A change of service would have been very trying to me. Now I daresay we shall rub on together to the end, and Rachel can trust us to provide for her. She’s generally very sensible, poor thing, and reasonable. I’ve never had to put my foot down firmly but once, which was when he went to India, and she wanted to wear a ring he gave her. A decent enough ring—nothing but engraved gold—it would have done for her keeper-ring if they had ever got married. But, of course, I could not allow such a thing, and she fretted a little—it was after he had gone—and she gave me notice, and said she should take a place in a shop. Then she got letters from him, and I think he advised her to stay in the place where he had left her.”