The Nonesuch by Georgette Heyer Page A

this. ‘If I give a dance, I’ll hire the musicians from Harrogate, like I did at Christmas,’ she declared. ‘There’s never been anything nip-cheese about my parties, and nor there ever will be! What’s more, I won’t have you demean yourself, as if you was of no more account than that fubsy-faced creature that was here before you came to us! No: you’ll take your place at the table, and help me to entertain my guests, like you were one of the family, which I’m sure I often feel you are, so kind and obliging as you’ve always been to me, my dear!’
    Ancilla blushed rosily, but shook her head. ‘Thank you! You are a great deal too good, ma’am. But it would never do! Only think how Mrs Mickleby would stare! Charlotte and I will eat our dinners in the schoolroom, and I’ll bring her down to the drawing-room afterwards, as a good governess should.’
    ‘Now, don’t you talk flummery to me!’ begged Mrs Underhill. ‘You was hired to be a governess- companion to Tiffany, and that’s a very different matter, for all you’ve been so kind as to teach my Charlotte. And very grateful I am to you. I promise you.’
    ‘I don’t feel I deserve any gratitude!’ said Ancilla ruefully. ‘I haven’t succeeded in teaching her very much.’
    ‘Oh, well!’ said Mrs Underhill tolerantly. ‘I don’t hold with keeping girls cooped up in the schoolroom; and to my way of thinking they don’t need to have their heads stuffed full of learning. You teach her to be pretty-behaved, and you’ll hear no complaints from me! And as for the Squire’s wife, let her stare! Not that I think she would, for she’s always very civil to you, on account of your uncle being a General. In fact, it wouldn’t have astonished me if she’d invited you to her party.’ She stopped, the most pressing problem of all evoked by her own words. ‘That party! Oh, dear, whatever’s to be done, Miss Trent? Tiffany will be as mad as Bedlam when she knows she’s not to go! Such a dust as she’ll raise! I own it puts me in a quake only to think of it!’
    ‘She’s bound to fly into a passion,’ admitted Ancilla, ‘but I believe I may be able to reconcile her. In a very improper way, of course, but it is never of the least use to appeal to her sense of what is right, because I don’t think she has any – or any regard for the sensibilities of others either.’
    Mrs Underhill uttered a faint protest; but she found it impossible to deny that Tiffany, for all her caressing ways, had never yet shown the smallest consideration for anyone. She did not enquire into the methods Miss Trent meant to employ to keep that volatile damsel in good spirits; and Miss Trent volunteered no explanation. Her methods were certainly unorthodox, and must have earned the censure of any mother anxious to see her daughter grow into a modest female, with delicacy of character as well as prettiness of person. But Miss Trent had long since realized that her lovely charge was governed by self-interest. Perhaps, if she were to be deeply in love one day, her nature might undergo a change; meanwhile, the best that the most conscientious preceptress could do for her was to instil into her head the belief that elegant manners were as essential for social success as an enchanting face; to keep her from passing the line; and to prevent her setting everyone in the house by the ears whenever her will was crossed.
    So when Tiffany came tempestuously into the schoolroom (as Ancilla had known she would), to pour out the tale of Mrs Mickleby’s infamous conduct, she listened to her with an air of blank amazement, and exclaimed: ‘But – ! Good heavens, Tiffany, you don’t mean to tell me that you wish to go to that party? You cannot be serious!’
    Tiffany’s bosom was heaving stormily, but an arrested, questioning look came into her eyes as she stared at Miss Trent. ‘What do you mean?’
    Miss Trent arched her brows incredulously. ‘ You at such an insipid squeeze? Oh, dear,