Mrs. Thornton and Fanny were in the dining-room; the latter in a

flutter of small exultation, as the maid held up one glossy

material after another, to try the effect of the wedding-dresses

by candlelight. Her mother really tried to sympathise with her,

but could not. Neither taste nor dress were in her line of

subjects, and she heartily wished that Fanny had accepted her

brother's offer of having the wedding clothes provided by some

first-rate London dressmaker, without the endless troublesome

discussions, and unsettled wavering, that arose out of Fanny's

desire to choose and superintend everything herself. Mr. Thornton

was only too glad to mark his grateful approbation of any

sensible man, who could be captivated by Fanny's second-rate airs

and graces, by giving her ample means for providing herself with

the finery, which certainly rivalled, if it did not exceed, the

lover in her estimation. When her brother and Mr. Bell came in,

Fanny blushed and simpered, and fluttered over the signs of her

employment, in a way which could not have failed to draw

attention from any one else but Mr. Bell. If he thought about her

and her silks and satins at all, it was to compare her and them

with the pale sorrow he had left behind him, sitting motionless,

with bent head and folded hands, in a room where the stillness

was so great that you might almost fancy the rush in your

straining ears was occasioned by the spirits of the dead, yet

hovering round their beloved. For, when Mr. Bell had first gone

up-stairs, Mrs. Shaw lay asleep on the sofa; and no sound broke

the silence.

Mrs. Thornton gave Mr. Bell her formal, hospitable welcome. She

was never so gracious as when receiving her Son's friends in her

son's house; and the more unexpected they were, the more honour

to her admirable housekeeping preparations for comfort.

'How is Miss Hale?' she asked.

'About as broken down by this last stroke as she can be.' 'I am sure it is very well for her that she has such a friend as

you.' 'I wish I were her only friend, madam. I daresay it sounds very

brutal; but here have I been displaced, and turned out of my post

of comforter and adviser by a fine lady aunt; and there are

cousins and what not claiming her in London, as if she were a

lap-dog belonging to them. And she is too weak and miserable to

have a will of her own.' 'She must indeed be weak,' said Mrs. Thornton, with an implied

meaning which her son understood well. 'But where,' continued

Mrs. Thornton, 'have these relations been all this time that Miss

Hale has appeared almost friendless, and has certainly had a good

deal of anxiety to bear?' But she did not feel interest enough in

the answer to her question to wait for it. She left the room to

make her household arrangements.




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