The doctor, when he had heard what was going to happen, carefully kept out of the way: Mary, therefore, had the pleasure of receiving Lady Arabella alone. Nothing could exceed her ladyship's affability. Mary thought that it perhaps might have savoured less of condescension; but then, on this subject, Mary was probably prejudiced. Lady Arabella smiled and simpered, and asked after the doctor, and the cat, and Janet, and said everything that could have been desired by any one less unreasonable than Mary Thorne.
'And now, Mary, I'll tell you why I have called.' Mary bowed her head slightly, as much as to say, that she would be glad to receive any information which Lady Arabella could give her on that subject. 'Of course you know that Beatrice is going to be married very shortly.'
Mary acknowledged that she had heard so much.
'Yes: we think it will be in September—early in September—and that is coming very soon now. The poor girl is anxious that you should be at her wedding.' Mary turned slightly red; but she merely said, and that somewhat too coldly, that she was much indebted to Beatrice for her kindness.
'I can assure you, Mary, that she is very fond of you, as much so as ever; and so, indeed, am I, and all of us are so. You know that Mr. Gresham was always your friend.'
'Yes, he always was, and I am grateful to Mr. Gresham,' answered Mary. It was well for Lady Arabella that she had her temper under command, for had she spoken her mind out there would have been very little chance left for reconciliation between her and Mary.
'Yes, indeed he was; and I think we all did what little we could to make you welcome at Greshamsbury, Mary, till those unpleasant occurrences took place.'
'What occurrences, Lady Arabella?'
'And Beatrice is so very anxious on this point,' said her ladyship, ignoring for the moment Mary's question. 'You two have been so much together, that she feels she cannot be quite happy if you are not near her when she is being married.'
'Dear Beatrice!' said Mary, warmed for the moment to an expression of genuine feeling.
'She came to me yesterday, begging that I would waive any objection I might have to your being there. I have made her no answer yet. What answer do you think I ought to make her?'
Mary was astounded at this question, and hesitated in her reply. 'What answer ought you to make her?' she said.
'Yes, Mary. What answer do you think I ought to give: I
