the lodgings, and therefore I do not think that she can have anything to complain of. Then there are the two sons; one of them the Bishop of M—— has got into the Army as a Lieutenant I suppose; and the other is extremely well off I know, for I have a notion that somebody puts him to school somewhere in Wales. Perhaps you knew them when they lived here?"
"Very well, we met as often as your family and the Halifaxes do in Town, but as we seldom had any difficulty in getting near enough to speak, we seldom parted with merely a nod and a smile. They were indeed a most charming family, and I believe have scarcely their equals in the world; the neighbours we now have at the Parsonage, appear to more disadvantage in coming after them."
"Oh! horrid wretches! I wonder you can endure them."
"Why, what would you have one do?"
"Oh! Lord, If I were in your place, I should abuse them all day long."
"So I do, but it does no good."
"Well, I declare it is quite a pity that they should be suffered to live. I wish my father would propose knocking all their brains out, some day or other when he is in the House. So abominably proud of their family! And I dare say after all, that there is nothing particular in it."
"Why yes, I believe they have reason to value themselves on it, if any body has; for you know he is Lord Amyatt's brother."
"Oh! I know all that very well, but it is no reason for their being so horrid. I remember I met Miss Dudley last spring with Lady Amyatt at Ranelagh, and she had such a frightful cap on, that I have never been able to bear any of them since. And so you used to think the Wynnes very pleasant?"
"You speak as if their being so were doubtful! Pleasant! Oh! they were every thing that could interest and attach. It is not in my power to do justice to their merits, tho' not to feel them, I think must be impossible. They have unfitted me for any society but their own!"
"Well, that is just what I think of the Miss Halifaxes; by the bye, I must write to Caroline tomorrow, and I do not know what to say to her. The Barlows too are just such other sweet girls; but I wish Augusta's hair was not so dark. I cannot bear Sir Peter—horrid wretch! He is always laid up with the gout, which is exceedingly disagreeable to the family."
"And perhaps not very pleasant to himself. But as to the Wynnes; do you really think them very fortunate?"
"Do I? Why, does not every body? Miss Halifax and Caroline and Maria all say that they are the luckiest creatures in the world. So does Sir George Fitzgibbon and so do every body."
"That is, every body who have themselves conferred an obligation on them. But do you call it lucky, for a girl of genius and feeling to be sent in quest of a husband to Bengal, to be married there to a man of whose disposition she has no opportunity of judging till her judgement is of no use to her, who may be a tyrant, or a fool or both for what she knows to the contrary. Do you call that fortunate?"
"I know nothing of all that; I only know that it was extremely good in Sir George to fit her out and pay her passage, and that she would not have found many who would have done the same."
"I wish she had not found one," said Kitty with great eagerness, "she might then have remained in England and been happy."
"Well, I cannot conceive the hardship of going out in a very agreeable manner with two or three sweet girls for companions, having a delightful voyage to Bengal or Barbadoes or wherever it is, and being married soon after one's arrival to a very charming man immensely rich. I see no hardship in all that."
"Your representation of the affair," said Kitty laughing, "certainly gives a very different idea of it from mine. But supposing all this to be true, still, as it was by no means certain that she would be so fortunate either in her voyage, her companions, or her husband; in being obliged to run the risk of their proving very different, she undoubtedly experienced a great hardship. Besides, to a girl of any delicacy, the voyage in itself, since the object of it is so universally known, is a punishment that needs no other to make it very severe."
"I do not see that at all. She is not the first girl who has gone to the East Indies for a husband, and I declare I should think it very good fun if I were as poor."
"I believe you would think very differently then. But at least you will not defend her sister's situation! Dependant even for her clothes on the bounty of others, who of course do not pity her, as by your own account, they consider her as very fortunate."
"You are extremely nice upon my word; Lady Halifax is a delightful woman, and one of the sweetest tempered creatures in the world; I am sure I have every reason to speak well of her, for we are under most amazing obligations to her. She has frequently chaperoned me when my mother has been indisposed, and last spring she lent me her own horse three times, which was a prodigious favour, for it is the most beautiful creature that ever was seen, and I am the only person she ever lent it to."
"And then," continued she, "the Miss Halifaxes are quite delightful. Maria is one of the cleverest girls that ever were known—draws in oils, and plays anything by sight. She promised me one of her drawings before I left Town, but I entirely forgot to ask her for it. I would give anything to have one."
"But was not it very odd," said Kitty, "that the Bishop should send Charles Wynne to sea, when he must have had a much better chance of providing for him in the Church, which was the profession that Charles liked best, and the one for which his father had intended him? The Bishop I know had often promised Mr. Wynne a living, and as he never gave him one, I think it was incumbent on him to transfer the promise to his son."
"I believe you think he ought to have resigned his Bishopric to him; you seem determined to be dissatisfied with every thing that has been done for them."
"Well," said Kitty, "this is a subject on which we shall never agree, and therefore it will be useless to continue it farther, or to mention it again." She then left the room, and running out of the house was soon in her dear bower where she could indulge in peace all her affectionate anger against the relations of the Wynnes, which was greatly heightened by finding from Camilla that they were in general considered as having acted particularly well by them. She amused herself for some time in abusing, and hating them all, with great spirit, and when this tribute to her regard for the Wynnes, was paid, and the bower began to have its usual influence over her spirits, she contributed towards settling them, by taking out a book, for she had always one about her, and reading. She had been so employed for nearly an hour, when Camilla came running towards her with great eagerness, and apparently great pleasure. "Oh! my dear Catharine," said she, half out of breath, "I have such delightful news for you. But you shall guess what it is. We are all the happiest creatures in the world; would you believe it, the Dudleys have sent us an invitation to a ball at their own house. What charming people they are! I had no idea of there being so much sense in the whole family. I declare I quite dote upon them. And it happens so fortunately too, for I expect a new cap from Town tomorrow which will just do for a ball—gold net. It will be a most angelic thing—every body will be longing for the pattern." The expectation of a ball was indeed very agreeable intelligence to Kitty, who fond of dancing and seldom able to enjoy it, had reason to feel even greater pleasure in it than her friend; for to her, it was now no novelty. Camilla's delight however was by no means inferior to Kitty's, and she rather expressed the most of the two. The cap came and every other preparation was soon completed; while these were in agitation the days passed gaily away, but when directions were no longer necessary, taste could no longer be displayed, the difficulties no longer overcome, the short period that intervened before the day of the ball hung heavily on their hands, and every hour was too long. The very few times that Kitty had ever enjoyed the amusement of dancing was an excuse for her impatience, and an apology for the idleness it occasioned to
