“Oh, poor Mrs. Franks,” said Miss Annetta, “they were just preparing to go; but she, poor thing, though I don’t like to speak of such things before gentlemen, went and had a baby this morning. It has put them all out so dreadfully! and she had nothing ready, not so much as a little cap. Just like her, you will say; and of course they can’t go away now for ever so long.”
“Poor soul,” said Lady Mary, “I must send and ask if we can do anything.”
“Indeed, I think it wicked to encourage such people,” said Miss Baker. “How dare she go on having babies, knowing she can’t afford it? I have no pity for such a woman. Of course she brings it all on herself; and if she were the only one to suffer, I shouldn’t mind. But just fancy a woman of my age, subject to bronchitis, left to the tender mercies of her ninny of a husband, probably for six weeks longer, just the worst time of the year--not to speak of Annetta, who is a perfect martyr to rheumatism.”
“Oh, Jane!” exclaimed Miss Annetta, feebly.
“Though I think it’s gout,” said Miss Baker. “When gout is in a family, I believe it never lets you go much beyond forty without entering an appearance; which is my great reason for hoping I shall escape scot-free, seeing I’m forty-five.”
“You must not believe all my sister says; she is so fond of her fun,” said Miss Annetta, in an aside to Edgar. “Oh, I have heard a great deal about the new doctor, Lady Mary. He is quite young, and very handsome and nice, people say. He is coming straight from Scotland, so I suppose he must be very clever, for so many new medical things are found out there. I hear he has dark hair and eyes, and tall, and a very nice manner.”
“Well I suppose these are interesting details,” said Lady Mary; “but I should have liked to know a little more of his qualifications, I confess.”
“And he has a charming sister, a widow, who keeps his house; so that he will be able to ask people, which a bachelor never is, except men, and they don’t count as society;” cried Miss Annetta, continuing with breathless haste her report; for if Lady Mary had a fault, it was that she was too ready to interrupt uninteresting speeches. “The Franks are so poor, and they have so many children, they never were any good, not even for a garden party; but you must not think from what I say that I don’t love children, Mr. Earnshaw. I adore them! When are Phil and little Mary coming for a romp, and to see all our curiosities? I do feel so much at home with them, Lady Mary, you can’t think. Jane there says we are three romps all together, and she doesn’t know which is the worst.”