'What a silence!' said Lily, after about a quarter of an hour.
'What made you start, Jane?' said William.
'Did I?' said Jane.
'My speaking, I suppose,' said Lily, 'breaking the awful spell of silence.'
'How red you look, Jane. What is the matter?' said William.
'Do I?' asked Jane, becoming still redder.
'It is holding your face down over that baby's hood,' said Emily, 'you will sacrifice the colour of your nose to your nephew.'
Claude now asked Jane for the sealing-wax, folded up his letter, sealed it, put on a stamp, and as Jane was leaving the room at bedtime, said, 'Jenny, my dear, as you go by, just put that letter in the post- bag.'
Jane obeyed, and left the room. Claude soon after took the letter out of the bag, went to Emily's door, listened to ascertain that Jane was not there, and then knocked and was admitted.
'I could not help coming,' said he, 'to tell you of the trap in which Brownie has been caught.'
'Ah!' said Lily, 'I fancied I saw her peeping slyly at your letter.'
'Just so,' said Claude, 'and I hope she has experienced the truth of an old proverb.'
'Oh! tell us what you have said,' cried the sisters.
Claude read, 'Jane desires me to say that a hood for the baby shall be sent in the course of a week, and she hopes that it may be worn at the christening. I should rather say I hope it may be lost in the transit, for assuredly the head that it covers must be infected with something far worse than the scarlet fever-the fever of curiosity, the last quality which I should like my godson to possess. My only consolation is, that he will see the full deformity of the vice, as, poor little fellow, he becomes acquainted with 'that worst of plagues, a prying maiden aunt.' If Jane was simply curious, I should not complain, but her love of investigation is not directed to what ought to be known, but rather to find out some wretched subject for petty scandal, to blacken every action, and to add to the weight of every misdeed, and all for the sake of detailing her discoveries in exchange for similar information with Mrs. Appleton, or some equally suitable confidante.'
'Is that all?' said Lily.
'And enough, too, I hope,' said Claude.
'It ought to cure her!' cried Emily.
'Cure her!' said Claude, 'no such thing; cures are not wrought in this way; this is only a joke, and to keep it up, I will tell you a piece of news, which Jane must have spied out in my letter, as I had just written it when I saw her eyes in a suspicious direction. It was settled that Messieurs Maurice and Redgie are to go for two hours a day, three times a week, to Mr. Stevens, during the holidays.'
'The new Stoney Bridge curate?' said Emily.
'I am very glad you are not to be bored by them,' said Lily, 'but how they will dislike it!'
'It is very hard upon them,' said Claude, 'and I tried to prevent it, but the Baron was quite determined. Now I will begin to talk about this plan, and see whether Jenny betrays any knowledge of it.'
'Oh! it will be rare!' cried Lily; 'but do not speak of it before the Baron or William.'
'Let it be at luncheon,' said Emily, 'you know they never appear. Do you mean to send the letter?'
'Not that part of it,' said Claude, 'you see I can tear off the last page, and it is only to add a new conclusion. Good-night.'
Jane had certainly not spent the evening in an agreeable manner; she had not taken her seat at Claude's table with any evil designs towards his letter, but his writing was clear and legible, and her eye caught the word 'Maurice;' she wished to know what Claude could be saying about him, and having once begun, she could not leave off, especially when she saw her own name. When aware of the compliments he was paying her, she looked at him, but his eyes were fixed on his pen, and no smile, no significant expression betrayed that he was aware of her observations; and even when he gave her the letter to put into the post-bag he looked quite innocent and unconcerned. On the other hand, she did not like to think that he had been sending such a character of her to Eleanor in sober sadness; it was impossible to find out whether he had sent the letter; she could not venture to beg him to keep it back, she could only trust to his good-nature.
At luncheon, as they had agreed, Lily began by asking where her papa and William were gone? Claude answered, 'To Stoney Bridge, to call upon Mr. Stevens; they mean to ask him to dine one day next week, to be introduced to his pupils.'
'Is he an Oxford or Cambridge man?' asked Lily.
'Oxford,' exclaimed Jane, quite forgetting whence she had derived her information, 'he is a fellow of-'
'Indeed?' said Lily; 'how do you know that?'
'Why, we have all been talking of him lately,' said Jane.
'Not I,' said Emily, 'why should he interest us?'
'Because he is to tutor the boys,' said Jane.
'When did you hear that he is to tutor the boys?' asked Lily.
'When you did, I suppose,' said Jane, blushing.
'You did, did you?' said Claude. 'I feel convinced, if so, that you must really be what you are so often called, a changeling. I heard it, or rather read it first at Oxford, where the Baron desired me to make inquiries about him. You were, doubtless, looking over my shoulder at the moment. This is quite a discovery. We shall have to perform a brewery of egg-shells this evening, and put the elf to flight with a red-hot poker, and what a different sister Jane we shall recover, instead of this little mischief-making sprite, so quiet, so reserved, never intruding her opinion, showing constant deference to all her superiors-yes, and to her inferiors, shutting her eyes to the faults of others, and when they come before her, trying to shield the offender from those who regard them as merely exciting news.'
Claude's speech had become much more serious than he intended, and he felt quite guilty when he had finished, so that it was not at all an undesirable interruption when Phyllis and Adeline asked for the story of the brewery of egg-shells.
Emily and Lilias kindly avoided looking at Jane, who, after fidgeting on her chair and turning very red, succeeded in regaining outward composure. She resolved to let the matter die away, and think no more about it.
When Mr. Mohun and William came home, they brought the news that Lady Rotherwood had invited the whole party to dinner.
'I am very glad we are allowed to see them,' said Emily, 'I am quite tired of being shut up.'
'If it was not for the Westons we might as well live in Nova Zembla,' said Jane.
'I am glad you damsels should know a little more of Florence,' said Mrs. Mohun.
'Yes,' said Claude, 'cousins were made to be friends.'
'In that case one ought to be able to choose them,' said William.
'And know them,' said Emily. 'We have not seen Florence since she was eleven years old.'
'Cousin or not,' said Lilias, 'Florence can hardly be so much my friend as Alethea.'
'Right, Lily,' said William, 'stand up for old friends against all the cousins in the universe.'
'Has Alethea a right to be called an old friend?' said Emily; 'does three quarters of a year make friendship venerable?'
'No one can deny that she is a tried friend,' said Lilias.
