Mrs. Tom Pynsent became alarmed at her sister's audacity, and she signed to her husband, who was seated by Mrs. Tyndal, to join the little circle. He advanced immediately.
"Well, my little wife, what are you wishing? The dear Count is not here, is he? therefore you want _me_ among you."
"Now, be quiet, Tom." Mrs. Tom Pynsent looked round to discover a disengaged chair: her husband saw the inquiring look, and he seated himself upon the carpet.
"My dear Tom," replied his lady, smiling, "I particularly wish you to give me your opinion upon matrimony before the young ladies here assembled."
"_My_ matrimony, if you please," observed Lady Kerrison--"you are requested to take a comprehensive view of _my_ matrimony." She looked haughtily towards Sir Foster, who sat within hearing. "There sits my animal: shall we decide upon the species?"
"Hush, Clara, hush!" softly whispered Mrs. Tom Pynsent.
"My dear Lady Kerrison!" burst from the lips of Miss Wycherly.
"Every one has a name and a place," continued Lady Kerrison, heedless of all caution and counsel. "Pray, Tom Pynsent, assert your opinions as plainly as I do mine, and tell me what a mother deserves, who weds her young and unsuspecting child to a brute, without contemplating her fate in prospect? Pray, Tom Pynsent, what is the conclusion of that fate? Will it rest in dull misery, or will the indignant spirit burst its fetters?"
Tom Pynsent affected ignorance of Lady Kerrison's meaning: he saw Miss Wycherly and Lucy Kerrison cast looks of alarm at Sir Foster, who was winking very rapidly; he saw, also, tears springing to the eyes of his wife--something must be done: he rose hastily.
"Anna Maria, this is a very _English_ party, to your little trumpery, new-set taste! Your French Count would have lectured you for sitting so long in one spot. Come, Chrystal, and Lucy, let us have a round game or a country-dance. Who will play us a country-dance? Pen, rattle the keys for us."
Miss Wycherly was eager to break up the conference, and she played country-dances with great spirit: five couple were therefore soon arranged, and Christobelle was led forth by Charles Spottiswoode. When they reached the termination of the set, Mr. Spottiswoode addressed his partner with an air of mystery, and inquired, in low tones, if she had lately heard of or from Bedinfield. Christobelle could give no satisfactory intelligence. A letter had certainly been received at Wetheral lately, but she had not been made acquainted with its contents. Mr. Spottiswoode's reply was very complimentary to Christobelle: she felt it exquisitely.