Shirley
Fortune was at this moment bringing her four other guests – lady-guests, all packed in a pony-phaeton now rolling somewhat heavily along the road from Whinbury: an elderly lady, and three of her buxom daughters, were coming to see her »in a friendly way,« as the custom of that neighbourhood was. Yes, a fourth time the bell clanged: Fanny brought the present announcement to the drawing-room –
»Mrs. Sykes and the three Misses Sykes.«
When Caroline was going to receive company, her habit was to wring her hands very nervously, to flush a little, and come forward hurriedly yet hesitatingly, wishing herself meantime at Jericho. She was, at such crises, sadly deficient in finished manner, though she had once been at school a year. Accordingly, on this occasion, her small white hands sadly maltreated each other, while she stood up, waiting the entrance of Mrs. Sykes.
In stalked that lady, a tall bilious gentlewoman, who made an ample and not altogether insincere profession of piety, and was greatly given to hospitality towards the clergy; in sailed her three daughters, a showy trio, being all three well grown, and more or less handsome.
In English country ladies there is this point to be remarked. Whether young or old, pretty or plain, dull or sprightly, they all (or almost all) have a certain expression stamped on their features, which seems to say, »I know – I do not boast of it – but I
know
that I am the standard of what is proper; let every one therefore whom I approach, or who approaches me, keep a sharp look-out, for wherein they differ from me – be the same in dress, manner, opinion, principle, or practice – therein they are wrong.«
Mrs. and Misses Sykes, far from being exceptions to this observation, were pointed illustrations of its truth. Miss Mary – a well-looked, well-meant, and, on the whole, well-dispositioned girl – wore her complacency with some state, though without harshness; Miss Harriet – a beauty – carried it more overbearingly: she looked high and cold; Miss Hannah, who was conceited, dashing, pushing, flourished hers consciously and openly; the mother evinced it with the gravity proper to her age and religious fame.
The reception was got through somehow. Caroline »was glad to see them« (an unmitigated fib), hoped they were well, hoped Mrs. Sykes's cough was better (Mrs. Sykes had had a cough for the last twenty years), hoped the Misses Sykes had left their sisters at home well; to which inquiry, the Misses Sykes, sitting on three chairs opposite the music-stool, whereon Caroline had undesignedly come to anchor, after wavering for some seconds between it and a large arm-chair, into which she at length recollected she ought to induct Mrs. Sykes: and indeed that lady saved her the trouble by depositing herself therein; the Misses Sykes replied to Caroline by one simultaneous bow, very majestic and mighty awful. A pause followed: this bow was of a character to ensure silence for the next five minutes, and it did. Mrs. Sykes then inquired after Mr. Helstone, and whether he had had any return of rheumatism, and whether preaching twice on a Sunday fatigued him, and if he was capable of taking a full service now; and on being assured he was, she and all her daughters, combining in chorus, expressed their opinion that he was »a wonderful man of his years.«
Pause second.
Miss Mary, getting up the steam in her turn, asked whether Caroline had attended the Bible Society Meeting which had been held at Nunnely last Thursday night: the negative answer which truth compelled Caroline to utter – for last Thursday evening she had been sitting at home, reading a novel which Robert had lent her – elicited a simultaneous expression of surprise from the lips of the four ladies.
»We were all there,« said Miss Mary; »mamma and all of us; we even persuaded papa to go: Hannah would insist upon it; but he fell asleep while Mr. Langweilig, the German Moravian minister, was speaking: I felt quite ashamed, he nodded so.«
»And there was Dr Broadbent,« cried Hannah, »such a beautiful speaker! You couldn't expect it of him, for he is almost a vulgar-looking man.«
»But such a dear man,« interrupted Mary.
»And such a good man, such a useful man,« added her mother.
»Only like a butcher in appearance,« interposed the fair, proud Harriet. »I couldn't bear to look at him: I listened with my eyes shut.«
Miss Helstone felt her ignorance and incompetency; not having seen Dr
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