LITMIR.BIZ

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adorable? Why should she tremble before the opinion of a dozen stupid people? But she could not help it. However much she despised her neighbours, she could not prevent herself from being miserably affected by their judgment. And what did Edward feel? Was he as nervous as she? She could not bear the thought that he should suffer pain. It was an immense relief when Mrs. Branderton rose from the table. Bertha looked at Arthur holding open the door; she would have given anything to ask him to look after Edward, but dared not. She was terrified lest, to his humiliation, those old squires should pointedly ignore him.

      On reaching the drawing-room Miss Glover found herself by Bertha’s side, a little separated from the others, and the accident seemed designed by higher powers to give her an opportunity for the amends which she felt it her duty to make Mrs. Craddock for her former disparagement of Edward. She had been thinking the matter over, and considered an apology distinctly needful. But Miss Glover suffered terribly from nervousness, and the idea of broaching so delicate a subject caused her indescribable torture; yet the very unpleasantness of it reassured her, if speech was so disagreeable, it must obviously be her duty. But the words stuck in her throat, and she began talking of the weather. She reproached herself for cowardice; she set her teeth and grew scarlet.

      “Bertha, I want to beg your pardon,” she blurted out suddenly.

      “What on earth for?” Bertha opened her eyes wide and looked at the poor woman with astonishment.

      “I feel I’ve been unjust to your husband. I thought he wasn’t a proper match for you, and I said things about him which I shouldn’t even have thought. I’m very sorry. He’s one of the best and kindest men I’ve ever seen, and I’m very glad you married him, and I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”

      Tears came to Bertha’s eyes as she laughed; she felt inclined to throw her arms round the grim Miss Glover’s neck, for such a speech at that moment was very comforting.

      “Of course I know you didn’t mean what you said.”

      “Oh yes, I did, I’m sorry to say,” replied Miss Glover, who could allow no extenuation to her own crime.

      “I’d quite forgotten all about it; and I believe you’ll soon be as madly in love with Edward as I am.”

      “My dear Bertha,” replied Miss Glover, who never jested, “with your husband? You must be joking.”

      But Mrs. Branderton interrupted them with her high voice.

      “Bertha, dear, I want to talk to you.” Bertha, smiling, sat down beside her, and Mrs. Branderton proceeded in undertones.

      “I must tell you, every one has been saying you’re the handsomest couple in the county, and we all think your husband is so nice.”

      “He laughed at all your jokes,” replied Bertha.

      “Yes,” said Mrs. Branderton, looking upwards and sideways like a canary, “he has such a merry disposition. But I’ve always liked him, dear. I was telling Mrs. Mayston Ryle that I’ve known him intimately ever since he was born. I thought it would please you to know that we all think your husband is nice.”

      “I’m very much pleased. I hope Edward will be equally satisfied with all of you.”

      The Craddock’s carriage came early, and Bertha offered to drive the Glovers home.

      “I wonder if that lady has swallowed a poker,” said Mr. Molson, as soon as the drawing-room door was closed.

      The two Miss Hancocks went into shrieks of laughter at this sally, and even the Dean smiled gently.

      “Where did she get her diamonds from?” said the elder Miss Hancock. “I thought they were as poor as church mice.”

      “The diamonds and the pictures are the only things they have left,” said Mrs. Branderton; “her family always refused to sell them; though, of course, it’s absurd for people in that position to have such jewels.”

      “He’s a remarkably nice fellow,” said Mrs. Mayston Ryle in her deep, authoritative voice; “but I agree with Mr. Molson, she’s distinctly inclined to give herself airs.”

      “The Leys for generations have been as proud as turkey-cocks,” added Mrs. Branderton.

      “I shouldn’t have thought Mrs. Craddock had much to be proud of now, at all events,” said the elder Miss Hancock; she had no ancestors herself, and thought people who had were snobs.

      “Perhaps she was a little nervous,” said Lady Waggett, who, though not distinguished, was good. “I know when I was a bride I used to be all of a tremble when I went to dinner-parties.”

      “Nonsense,” said Mrs. Mayston Ryle. “She was extremely self-possessed; I don’t think it looks well for a young woman to have so much assurance. And I think she ought to be told that it’s hardly well bred for a young married woman to leave a house before anybody else as if she were royalty, when there are present women of a certain age and of a position undoubtedly not inferior to her own.”

      “Oh, they’re so newly married they like to be alone, poor things,” said Lady Waggett. “I know I used to when I was first married to Sir Samuel.”

      “My dear Lady Waggett,” answered Mrs. Mayston Ryle in tones of thunder, “the cases are not similar; Mrs. Craddock was a Miss Ley, and really should know something of the usages of good society.”

      “Well, what do you think she said to me?” said Mrs. Branderton, waving her thin arms. “I was telling her that we were all so pleased with her husband—I thought it would comfort her a little, poor thing—and she said she hoped he would be equally satisfied with us.”

      Mrs. Mayston Ryle for a moment was stupefied, but soon recovered.

      “How very amusing,” she cried, rising from her chair. “Ha! ha! She hopes Mr. Edward Craddock will be satisfied with Mrs. Mayston Ryle.”

      The two Miss Hancocks said “Ha! ha!” in chorus. Then, the great lady’s carriage being announced, she bade the assembly good-night, and swept out with a great rustling of her violet silk. The party might now really be looked upon as concluded, and the others obediently flocked off.

       When they had put the Glovers down, Bertha nestled close to her husband.

      “I’m so glad it’s all over,” she whispered; “I’m only happy when I’m alone with you.”

      “It was a jolly evening, wasn’t it,” he said. “I thought they were all ripping.”

      “I’m so glad you enjoyed it, dear; I was afraid you’d be bored.”

      “Good heavens, that’s the last thing I should be. It does one good to hear conversation like that now and then—it brightens one up.”

      Bertha started a little.

      “Old Bacot is a very well informed man, isn’t he? I shouldn’t wonder if he was right in thinking that the government would go out at the end of their six years.”

      “He always leads one to believe that he’s in the Prime Minister’s confidence,” said Bertha.

      “And the General is a funny old chap,” added Edward. “That was a good story he told about the Duke of Wellington.”

      Somehow this remark had a curious effect upon Bertha; she could not restrain herself, but burst suddenly into shrieks of hysterical laughter. Her husband, thinking she was laughing at the anecdote, burst also into peal upon peal.

      “And the story about the Bishop’s gaiters!” cried Edward, shouting with merriment.

      The more he laughed, the more hysterical became Bertha; and as they drove through the silent night they screamed and yelled and shook with uncontrollable mirth.

      Chapter X

       Table

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