Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century CostumeYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
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Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
English fiction -- 19th century
“There is no help for it then,” said Betty.
“And if it be for the child’s advantage, we need not make our moan,”
said her father. “‘Tis like losing the daylight out of our house, but we
must not stand in the way of her good.”
“If I were only sure it is for her good!”
“Why, child, there’s scarce a wench in the county who would not go down
on her knees for such a chance. See what Madam Duckworth would say to it
for Miss Peggy!”
Betty said no more. The result of her cogitations had been that since
Aurelia must be yielded for the sake of her father and Eugene, it was
better not to disturb him with fears, which would only anger him at the
moment and disquiet him afterwards. She was likewise reassured by Mrs.
Dove’s going with her, since that good woman had been nurse to the
little Belamour cousins now deceased, and was well known as an excellent
and trustworthy person, so that, if she were going to act in the same
capacity to my Lady’s second family, Aurelia would have a friend at
hand. So the Major cheated his grief by greeting the church-goers with
the hilarious announcement--
“Here’s great news! What says my little Aura to going London to my
Lady’s house.”
“O Sir! are you about to take us.”
“Not I! My Lady wants pretty young maidens, not battered old soldiers.”
“Nor my sisters? O then, if you please, Sir, I would rather not go!”
“Silly children cannot choose! No, no, Aura, you must go out and see the
world, and come back to us such a belle that your poor old father will
scarce know you.”
“I do not wish to be a belle,” said the girl. “O Sir, let me stay with
you and sister.”
“Do not be so foolish, Aura,” put in Harriet. “It will be the making of
you. I wish I had the offer.”
“O Harriet, could not you go instead?”
“No, Aurelia,” said Betty. “There is no choice, and you must be a good
girl and not vex my father.”
The gravity of her eldest sister convinced Aurelia that entreaties would
be vain, and there was soon a general outburst of assurances that she
would see all that was delightful in London, the lions in the Tower, the
new St. Paul’s, the monuments, Ranelagh, the court ladies, may be,
the King and Queen themselves; until she began to feel exhilarated and
pleased at the prospect and the distinction.
Then came Monday and the bustle of preparing her wardrobe. The main body
of it was to be sent in the carrier’s waggon, for she was to ride on
a pillion behind Mr. Dove, and could only take a valise upon a groom’s
horse. There was no small excitement in the arrangement, and in
the farewells to the neighbours, who all agreed with Harriet in
congratulating the girl on her promotion. Betty did her part with all
her might, washed lace, and trimmed sleeves, and made tuckers, giving
little toilette counsels, while her heart ached sorely all the time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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