properly speaking, out yet. Well, if that’s what she thinks she’s never seen Tiffany in one of her tantrums! It isn’t, of course: she don’t want Tiffany to be there, shining down her daughters, and I can’t say I blame her, for a plainer pair of girls you’d be hard put to it to find!’
It was evident that she was torn between her hope of securing the heiress for her son, and a strong desire to out-do the Squire’s wife. Her intelligence was not of a high order, but she had a certain shrewdness which informed her that the graciousness of Mrs Mickleby’s manners was an expression not of civility but of condescension. Mrs Mickleby, in fact, was coming the great lady over her, and that (as she had once, in an expansive moment, told Miss Trent) was something she wouldn’t put up with, not if it was ever so! Mrs Mickleby might be related to persons of consequence, and she certainly was the Squire’s wife, but Staples was a far larger house than the Manor, and Mrs Underhill, however inferior her breeding, knew better than to employ a Female to cook for herself or her guests.
Miss Trent did not for a moment suppose that the issue was in doubt; so she was not surprised when Mrs Underhill launched immediately into a discussion on the number of persons to be invited to dinner; how many courses should be served; and whether or not the dinner should be followed by a dance. The question was, which would Sir Waldo prefer? What did Miss Trent think?
‘I think that Sir Waldo’s preferences don’t signify, ma’am,’ replied Ancilla frankly. ‘It is rather which would you prefer!’
‘Well, if ever I thought to hear you say such a nonsensical thing!’ exclaimed Mrs Underhill. ‘When the party’s to be given in his honour! Not that I should be consulting my own tastes however it might be, for you don’t give parties to please yourself – at least, I don’t!’
‘No, indeed you don’t, ma’am!’ Ancilla said affectionately. The smile which made her look younger, and decidedly mischievous, danced in her eyes. ‘In general, you give them to please Tiffany! You should not, you know.’
‘Yes, it’s all very well to talk like that, my dear, but I’m sure it’s natural she should want a bit of gaiety, even though her Aunt Burford didn’t see fit to bring her out this year. What’s more, my dear – and I don’t scruple to own it, for well I know I can say what I choose to you, and no harm done! – if Tiffany was to find it too slow for her here there’s no saying but what she’d beg her uncle to fetch her away, which he would do, because it’s my belief he didn’t like sending her back to me above half – and no wonder!’
Ancilla hesitated for a moment; and then, raising her eyes to Mrs Underhill’s face, said, a little diffidently: ‘I understand you, ma’am – of course! but – but do you think that Mr Courtenay Underhill shows the least disposition to – to fix his interest with his cousin? And – could you be comfortable with her as your daughter-in-law?’
‘No, but that’s no matter. It was the wish of both their fathers – and she’s young yet! I daresay she’ll grow to be more conformable,’ said Mrs Underhill optimistically. Her mind reverted to the more immediate problem; after pondering deeply for a few moments, she said: ‘Twenty-four couples could stand up in my drawing-room, and very likely more, but the thing is there ain’t as many young persons in the district: not without I was to invite a set of company, like the Butterlaws, which I wouldn’t for my life do! It might be that Sir Waldo would as lief sit down to a rubber of whist, but then there’s this young lord of his! It has me quite in a worry to decide what to do for the best!’
‘How would it be, ma’am, if you were to make no decision, but to leave it to chance? Then, if you thought your guests would like to get up a set or two, I can play the music for them.’
But Mrs Underhill would have none of
It was evident that she was torn between her hope of securing the heiress for her son, and a strong desire to out-do the Squire’s wife. Her intelligence was not of a high order, but she had a certain shrewdness which informed her that the graciousness of Mrs Mickleby’s manners was an expression not of civility but of condescension. Mrs Mickleby, in fact, was coming the great lady over her, and that (as she had once, in an expansive moment, told Miss Trent) was something she wouldn’t put up with, not if it was ever so! Mrs Mickleby might be related to persons of consequence, and she certainly was the Squire’s wife, but Staples was a far larger house than the Manor, and Mrs Underhill, however inferior her breeding, knew better than to employ a Female to cook for herself or her guests.
Miss Trent did not for a moment suppose that the issue was in doubt; so she was not surprised when Mrs Underhill launched immediately into a discussion on the number of persons to be invited to dinner; how many courses should be served; and whether or not the dinner should be followed by a dance. The question was, which would Sir Waldo prefer? What did Miss Trent think?
‘I think that Sir Waldo’s preferences don’t signify, ma’am,’ replied Ancilla frankly. ‘It is rather which would you prefer!’
‘Well, if ever I thought to hear you say such a nonsensical thing!’ exclaimed Mrs Underhill. ‘When the party’s to be given in his honour! Not that I should be consulting my own tastes however it might be, for you don’t give parties to please yourself – at least, I don’t!’
‘No, indeed you don’t, ma’am!’ Ancilla said affectionately. The smile which made her look younger, and decidedly mischievous, danced in her eyes. ‘In general, you give them to please Tiffany! You should not, you know.’
‘Yes, it’s all very well to talk like that, my dear, but I’m sure it’s natural she should want a bit of gaiety, even though her Aunt Burford didn’t see fit to bring her out this year. What’s more, my dear – and I don’t scruple to own it, for well I know I can say what I choose to you, and no harm done! – if Tiffany was to find it too slow for her here there’s no saying but what she’d beg her uncle to fetch her away, which he would do, because it’s my belief he didn’t like sending her back to me above half – and no wonder!’
Ancilla hesitated for a moment; and then, raising her eyes to Mrs Underhill’s face, said, a little diffidently: ‘I understand you, ma’am – of course! but – but do you think that Mr Courtenay Underhill shows the least disposition to – to fix his interest with his cousin? And – could you be comfortable with her as your daughter-in-law?’
‘No, but that’s no matter. It was the wish of both their fathers – and she’s young yet! I daresay she’ll grow to be more conformable,’ said Mrs Underhill optimistically. Her mind reverted to the more immediate problem; after pondering deeply for a few moments, she said: ‘Twenty-four couples could stand up in my drawing-room, and very likely more, but the thing is there ain’t as many young persons in the district: not without I was to invite a set of company, like the Butterlaws, which I wouldn’t for my life do! It might be that Sir Waldo would as lief sit down to a rubber of whist, but then there’s this young lord of his! It has me quite in a worry to decide what to do for the best!’
‘How would it be, ma’am, if you were to make no decision, but to leave it to chance? Then, if you thought your guests would like to get up a set or two, I can play the music for them.’
But Mrs Underhill would have none of
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