The household, however, had no such consoling consciousness of the possibility there was of having all done over again, and there was a great deal of agitation on the subject, both upstairs and down. Very silent upstairs--where Mrs. Mountford, in mingled compunction on Anne’s account and half-guilty joy (though it was none of her doing she said to herself) in respect to Rose’s (supposedly) increased fortune, was reduced to almost complete dumbness, her multiplicity of thoughts making it impossible to her to share in Rose’s chatter about the coming ball; and where Anne, satisfied to think that whatever was to happen had happened, and could no longer be supposed to depend upon any action of hers, sat proud and upright by the writing-table, reading--and altogether out of the talk which Rose carried on, and was quite able to carry on whatever happened, almost entirely by herself. Rose had the same general knowledge that something very important was going on as the rest; but to her tranquil mind, a bird in the hand was always more interesting than two or three in the bush. Downstairs, however, Saymore and Worth and the cook were far from silent. They had a notion of the state of affairs which was wonderfully accurate, and a strong conviction that Miss Anne for her sins had been deposed from her eminence and Miss Rose put in her place. The feeling of Saymore and the cook was strong in Anne’s favour, but Mrs. Worth was not so certain. ‘Miss Rose is a young lady that is far more patient to have her things tried on,’ Worth said. Saymore brought down an account of the party in the drawing-room, which was very interesting to the select party in the housekeeper’s room. ‘Missis by the side of the fire, as serious as a judge--puckering up her brows--never speaking a word.’ ‘I dare say she was counting,’ said Worth. ‘And Miss Anne up by the writing-table, with her back against the wall, reading a book, never taking no notice no more than if she were seventy; and Miss Rose a-chattering. The two before the fire had it all their own way. They were writing down and counting up all the folks for this dance. Dash the dance!’ said Saymore; ‘that sort of a nonsense is no satisfaction to reasonable folks. But Miss Rose, she’s as merry as a cricket with her Cousin Heathcote and Cousin Heathcote at every word. She knows it’s all to her advantage what’s been a-doing to-day.’ ‘That might be a match, I shouldn’t wonder--eh!’ said the cook, who was from the north-country; ‘the luck as some folks have--I never can understand these queer wills; why can’t gentlefolks do like poor folks, and divide fair, share and share alike? As for what you call entail, I don’t make head or tail of it; but if Miss Rose’s to get all the brass, and marry the man with the land, and Miss Anne to get nought, it’s easy to see that isn’t fair.’ ‘If it’s the cousin you mean,’ said Mrs. Worth, ‘he is just twice too old for Miss Rose.’