"What's the matter, dear mamma? Are not you tiring yourself with
talking?"
"No, not at all! I was only speaking of the folly of people dressing
above their station. I began by telling Clare of the fashions of
my grandmother's days, when every class had a sort of costume of
its own,--and servants did not ape tradespeople, nor tradespeople
professional men, and so on,--and what must the foolish woman do but
begin to justify her own dress, as if I had been accusing her, or
even thinking about her at all. Such nonsense! Really, Clare, your
husband has spoilt you sadly, if you can't listen to any one without
thinking they are alluding to you. People may flatter themselves
just as much by thinking that their faults are always present to
other people's minds, as if they believe that the world is always
contemplating their individual charms and virtues."
"I was told, Lady Cumnor, that this silk was reduced in price. I
bought it at Waterloo House after the season was over," said Mrs.
Gibson, touching the very handsome gown she wore in deprecation of
Lady Cumnor's angry voice, and blundering on to the very source of
irritation.
"Again, Clare! How often must I tell you I had no thought of you or
your gowns, or whether they cost much or little; your husband has to
pay for them, and it is his concern if you spend more on your dress
than you ought to do."
"It was only five guineas for the whole dress," pleaded Mrs. Gibson.
"And very pretty it is," said Lady Harriet, stooping to examine it,
and so hoping to soothe the poor aggrieved woman. But Lady Cumnor
went on,--
"No! you ought to have known me better by this time. When I
think a thing I say it out. I don't beat about the bush. I use
straightforward language. I will tell you where I think you have
been in fault, Clare, if you like to know." Like it or not, the
plain-speaking was coming now. "You have spoilt that girl of yours
till she does not know her own mind. She has behaved abominably
to Mr. Preston; and it is all in consequence of the faults in her
education. You have much to answer for."
"Mamma, mamma!" said Lady Harriet, "Mr. Preston did not wish
it spoken about." And at the same moment Mrs. Gibson exclaimed,
"Cynthia--Mr. Preston!" in such a tone of surprise, that if Lady
Cumnor had been in the habit of observing the revelations made by
other people's tones and voices, she would have found out that Mrs.
Gibson was ignorant of the affair to which she was alluding.