On the next day her father returned to town, and the three ladies were left alone. Great preparations were going on for the Whitstable wedding. Dresses were being made and linen marked, and consultations held,--from all which things Georgiana was kept quite apart. The accepted lover came over to lunch, and was made as much of as though the Whitstables had always kept a town house. Sophy loomed so large in her triumph and happiness, that it was not to be borne. All Caversham treated her with a new respect. And yet if Toodlam was a couple of thousand a year, it was all it was:--and there were two unmarried sisters! Lady Pomona went half into hysterics every time she saw her younger daughter, and became in her way a most oppressive parent. Oh, heavens;--was Mr Brehgert with his two houses worth all this? A feeling of intense regret for the things she was losing came over her. Even Caversham, the Caversham of old days which she had hated, but in which she had made herself respected and partly feared by everybody about the place,--had charms for her which seemed to her delightful now that they were lost for ever. Then she had always considered herself to be the first personage in the house,--superior even to her father;--but now she was decidedly the last.
Her second evening was worse even than the first. When Mr Longestaffe was not at home the family sat in a small dingy room between the library and the dining-room, and on this occasion the family consisted only of Georgiana. In the course of the evening she went upstairs and calling her sister out into the passage demanded to be told why she was thus deserted. 'Poor mamma is very ill,' said Sophy.
'I won't stand it if I'm to be treated like this,' said Georgiana. 'I'll go away somewhere.'
'How can I help it, Georgey? It's your own doing. Of course you must have known that you were going to separate yourself from us.'
On the next morning there came a dispatch from Mr Longestaffe,--of what nature Georgey did not know as it was addressed to Lady Pomona. But one enclosure she was allowed to see. 'Mamma,' said Sophy, 'thinks you ought to know how Dolly feels about it.' And then a letter from Dolly to his father was put into Georgey's hands. The letter was as follows:-MY DEAR FATHER,-Can it be true that Georgey is thinking of marrying that horrid vulgar Jew, old Brehgert? The fellows say so; but I can't believe it. I'm sure you wouldn't let her. You ought to lock her up.