"Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given."
Timon of Athens.
Under the circumstances of the Curtis family, no greater penance could
have been devised than the solemn dinner party which had to take place
only an hour after the investigation was closed. Grace in especial was
nearly distracted between her desire to calm her mother and to comfort
her sister, and the necessity of attending to the Grey family, who
repaid themselves for their absence from the scene of action by a
torrent of condolences and questions, whence poor Grace gathered to her
horror and consternation that the neighbourhood already believed that
a tenderer sentiment than philanthropy had begun to mingle in Rachel's
relations with the secretary of the F. U. E. E. Feeling it incumbent
on the whole family to be as lively and indifferent as possible, Grace,
having shut her friends into their rooms to perform their toilette,
hurried to her sister, to find her so entirely engrossed with her
patient as absolutely to have forgotten the dinner party. No wonder! She
had had to hunt up a housemaid to make up a bed for Lovedy in a little
room within her own, and the undressing and bathing of the poor child
had revealed injuries even in a more painful state than those which had
been shown to Mr. Grey, shocking emaciation, and most scanty garments.
The child was almost torpid, and spoke very little. She was most
unwilling to attempt to swallow; however, Rachel thought that some of
her globules had gone down, and put much faith in them, and in warmth
and sleep; but incessantly occupied, and absolutely sickened by the
sight of the child's hurts, she looked up with loathing at Grace's
entreaty that she would, dress for the dinner.
"Impossible," she said.
"You must, Rachel dear; indeed, you must."
"As if I could leave her."
"Nay, Rachel, but if you would only send--"
"Nonsense, Grace; if I can stay with her I can restore her far better
than could an allopathist, who would not leave nature to herself. O
Grace, why can't you leave me in peace? Is it not bad enough without
this?"
"Dear Rachel, I am very sorry; but if you did not come down to dinner,
think of the talk it would make."
"Let them talk."
"Ah, Rachel, but the mother! Think how dreadful the day's work has been
to her; and how can she ever get through the evening if she is in a
fright at your not coming down?"
"Dinner parties are one of the most barbarous institutions of past
stupidity," said Rachel, and Grace was reassured. She hovered over
Rachel while Rachel hovered over the sick child, and between her own
exertions and those of two maids, had put her sister into an evening
dress by the time the first carriage arrived. She then rushed to her own
room, made her own toilette, and returned to find Rachel in conference
with Mrs. Kelland, who had come home at last, and was to sit with her
niece during the dinner. Perhaps it was as well for all parties that
this first interview was cut very short, but Rachel's burning cheeks did
not promise much for the impression of ease and indifference she was to
make, as Grace's whispered reminders of "the mother's" distress dragged
her down stairs among the all too curious glances of the assembled
party.