"Yes," said Henrietta, as if satisfied.
"And above all," said her mother, "it, like other gifts, grows dangerous, it may become affectation."
"Pruding," said Beatrice, "showing openly that you like it to be observed how prudent and proper you are."
"Whereas true delicacy would shrink from showing that it is conscious of anything wrong," said Henrietta. "Wrong I do not exactly mean, but something on the borders of it."
"Yes," said Aunt Mary, "and above all, do not let this delicacy show itself in the carping at other people, which only exalts our own opinion of ourselves, and very soon turns into 'judging our neighbour.'"
"But there is false delicacy, aunt."
"Yes, but it would be false kindness to enter on a fresh discussion to-night, when you ought to be fast asleep."
CHAPTER XI.
THE Queen Bee, usually undisputed sovereign of Knight Sutton, found in her cousin Roger a formidable rival. As son and heir, elder brother, and newly arrived after five years' absence, he had considerable claims to attention, and his high spirits, sailor manners, sea stories, and bold open temper, were in themselves such charms that it was no wonder that Frederick and Alexander were seduced from their allegiance, and even grandpapa was less than usual the property of his granddaughter.
This, however, she might have endured, had the sailor himself been amenable to her power, for his glories would then have become hers, and have afforded her further opportunities of coquetting with Fred. But between Roger and her there was little in common: he was not, and never had been, accessible to her influence; he regarded her, indeed, with all the open-hearted affection of cousinly intercourse, but for the rest, thought her much too clever for him, and far less attractive than either Henrietta or Jessie.
If she would, Henrietta might have secured his devotion, for he was struck with her beauty, and considered it a matter of credit to himself to engross the prettiest person present. Had Beatrice been in her place, it may be doubted how far love of power, and the pleasure of teasing, might have carried her out of her natural character in the style that suited him; but Henrietta was too simple, and her mind too full of her own affairs even to perceive that he distinguished her. She liked him, but she showed none of the little airs which would have seemed to appropriate him. She was ready to be talked to, but only as she gave the attention due to any one, nay, showing, because she felt, less eagerness than if it had been grandpapa, Queen Bee, or Fred, a talk with the last of whom was a pleasure now longed for, but never enjoyed. To his stories of adventures, or accounts of manners, she lent a willing and a delighted ear; but all common-place jokes tending to flirtation fell flat; she either did not catch them, or did not catch at them. She might blush and look confused, but it was uncomfortable, and not gratified embarrassment, and if she found an answer, it was one either to change the subject, or honestly manifest that she was not pleased.
She did not mortify Roger, who liked her all the time; and if he thought at all, only considered her as shy or grave, and still continued to admire her, and seek her out, whenever his former favourite, Jessie, was not in the way to rattle with in his usual style. Jessie was full of enjoyment, Henrietta was glad to be left to her own devices, her mamma was still more rejoiced to see her act so properly without self-consciousness or the necessity of interference, and the Queen Bee ought to have been duly grateful to the one faithful vassal who was proof against all allurements from her side and service.
She ought, but the melancholy fact is that the devotion of womankind is usually taken as a matter of course. Beatrice would have despised and been very angry with Henrietta had she deserted to Roger, but she did not feel in the least grateful for her adherence, and would have been much more proud of retaining either of the boys. There was one point on which their attention could still be commanded, namely, the charades; for though the world may be of opinion that they had had quite a sufficiency of amusement, they were but the more stimulated by their success on Thursday, and the sudden termination in the very height of their triumph.
They would, perhaps, have favoured the public with a repetition of Shylock's trial the next evening, but that, to the great consternation, and, perhaps, indignation of Beatrice, when she came down to breakfast in the morning, she found their tiring-room, the study, completely cleared of all their various goods and chattels, Portia's wig in its box, the three caskets gone back to the dressing-room, the duke's throne safe in its place in the hall, and even Shylock's yellow cap picked to pieces, and rolled up in the general hoard of things which were to come of use in seven years' time. Judith, who was putting the finishing touches to the re-arrangement by shaking up the cushions of the great chair, and restoring the inkstand to its place in the middle of the table, gave in answer to her exclamations the information that "Missus had been up since seven o'clock, helping to put away the things herself, for she said she could not bear to have Mr. Geoffrey's room not fit for anybody to sit in." This might certainly be considered as a tolerably broad hint that they had better discontinue their representations, but they were arrived at that state of eagerness which may be best illustrated by the proverb referring to a blind horse. Every one, inclined to that same impetuosity, and want of soberness, can remember the dismay with which hosts of such disregarded checks will recur to the mind when too late, and the poor satisfaction of the self-justification which truly answers that their object was not even comprehended. Henrietta, accustomed but little to heed such indications of dissent from her will, did not once think of her grandmamma's dislike, and Beatrice with her eyes fully open to it, wilfully despised it as a fidgety fancy.
Henrietta had devised a series of scenes for the word assassin, and greatly delighted the imagination of her partners by a proposal to make a pair of asses' ears of cotton velvet for the adornment of Bottom the weaver. Fred fell back in his chair in fits of laughing at the device, and Queen Bee capered and danced about the room, declaring her worthy to be her own "primest of viziers."
"And," said Beatrice, "what an exquisite interlude it will make to relieve the various plagues of Monday evening."
"Why you don't mean to act then!" exclaimed Henrietta.
"Why not? You don't know what a relief it will be. It will be an excuse for getting away from all the stupidity."
"To be sure it will," cried Fred. "A bright thought, Mrs. Bee. We shall have it all to ourselves in the study in comfort."
"But would grandmamma ever let us do it?" said Henrietta.
"I will manage," said Beatrice. "I will make grandpapa agree to it, and then she will not mind. Think how he enjoyed it."
"Before so many people!" said Henrietta. "O, Queenie, it will never do! It would be a regular exhibition."
"My dear, what nonsense!" said Beatrice. "Why, it is all among friends and neighbours."
"Friends and neighbours to you," said Henrietta.
"And yours too. Fred, she is deserting! I thought you meant to adopt or inherit all Knight Sutton and its neighbourhood could offer."
"A choice inheritance that neighbourhood, by your account," said Fred. "But come, Henrietta, you must not spoil the whole affair by such nonsense and affectation."
"Affectation! O, Fred!"
"Yes, to be sure it is," said Fred: "to set up such scruples as these. Why, you said yourself that you forget all about the spectators when once you get into the spirit of the thing."
"And what is affectation," said Beatrice, seeing her advantage, "but thinking what other people will think?"