Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 349/572

On its receipt, this letter was greeted in various ways by the four

people who sate round the breakfast-table. Mrs. Gibson read it to

herself first. Then, without telling what its contents were, so that

her auditors were quite in the dark as to what her remarks applied,

she said,--

"I think they might have remembered that I am a generation nearer to

them than she is, but nobody thinks of family affection now-a days;

and I liked him so much, and bought a new cookery-book, all to make

it pleasant and agreeable and what he was used to." She said all this

in a plaintive, aggrieved tone of voice; but as no one knew to what

she was referring, it was difficult to offer her consolation. Her

husband was the first to speak.

"If you want us to sympathize with you, tell us what is the nature of

your woe."

"Why, I daresay it's what he means as a very kind attention, only I

think I ought to have been asked before Cynthia," said she, reading

the letter over again.

"Who's _he_? and what's meant for a 'kind attention'?"

"Mr. Kirkpatrick, to be sure. This letter is from him; and he wants

Cynthia to go and pay them a visit, and never says anything about you

or me, my dear. And I'm sure we did our best to make it pleasant; and

he should have asked us first, I think."

"As I couldn't possibly have gone, it makes very little difference to

me."

"But I could have gone; and, at any rate, he should have paid us

the compliment: it's only a proper mark of respect, you know. So

ungrateful, too, when I gave up my dressing-room on purpose for him!"

"And I dressed for dinner every day he was here, if we are each to

recapitulate all our sacrifices on his behalf. But, for all that, I

didn't expect to be invited to his house. I shall be only too glad if

he will come again to mine."

"I've a great mind not to let Cynthia go," said Mrs. Gibson

reflectively.

"I can't go, mamma," said Cynthia, colouring. "My gowns are all so

shabby, and my old bonnet must do for the summer."

"Well, but you can buy a new one; and I'm sure it is high time you

should get yourself another silk gown. You must have been saving up a

great deal, for I don't know when you've had any new clothes."

Cynthia began to say something, but stopped short. She went on

buttering her toast, but she held it in her hand without eating it;

without looking up either, as, after a minute or two of silence, she

spoke again:--