and gossip about the day's
work. Mr Mackenzie was down at the House, and there was no occasion
for any domestic energy. And thus the evening was passed. How Mrs
Chaucer Munro and the loud bevy fared among them, or how old Lady
Ware and her daughters, or the poor, dear, bothered duchess or Mr
Manfred Smith, or the kings and heroes who had appeared in paint
and armour, cannot be told. I fear that the Mackenzie verdict about
the bazaar in general was not favourable and that they agreed among
themselves to abstain from such enterprises of charity in future. It
concerns us now chiefly to know that our Griselda held up her head
well throughout that evening, and made herself comfortable and at her
ease among her cousins, although it was already known to her that the
legal decision had gone against her in the great case of Ball _v._
Mackenzie. But had that decision been altogether in her favour the
result would not have been so favourable to her spirits, as had been
that little speech made by Mrs Mackenzie as to her having no right as
yet to scold Sir John for his extravagance,--that little speech made
in good humour, and apparently accepted in good humour even by him.
But on that evening Mrs Mackenzie was not able to speak to Margaret
about her prospects, or to lecture her on the expediency of regarding
the nicenesses of her dress in Sir John's presence, because of the
two other cousins. The two other cousins, no doubt, knew all the
story of the Lion and the Lamb, and talked to their sister-in-law,
Clara, of their other cousin, Griselda, behind Griselda's back; and
were no doubt very anxious that Griselda should become a baronet's
wife; but among so large a party there was no opportunity for
confidential advice.
On the next morning Mrs Mackenzie and Margaret were together, and
then Mrs Mackenzie began:
"Margaret, my dear," said she, "that bonnet I gave you has been worth
its weight in gold."
"It cost nearly as much," said Margaret, "for it was very expensive
and very light."
"Or in bank-notes either, because it has shown him and me and
everybody else that you needn't be a dowdy unless you please. No man
wishes to marry a dowdy, you know."
"I suppose I was a dowdy when he asked me."
"I wasn't there, and didn't know you then, and can't say. But I do
know that he liked the way you looked yesterday. Now, of course,
he'll be coming here before long."
"I dare say he won't come here again the whole summer."
"If h
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