Gothic fiction; Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
So Esther was remanded to the nursery, and it being the day before the
party, there was plenty to be done and thought of for all hands. And
though the doctor came, he did not seem much impressed with her state of
health--left a very innocent prescription that was not sent for till the
next day, and eased everybody's mind exceedingly. What a very
comfortable thing it is to be able to pin one's faith to a medical
coatsleeve, and according as it is elevated or depressed, be soothed or
terrified.
Any disinterested observer, I think, would have agreed with Esther and
me, that party-giving was not in any way conducive to home comfort. That
wretched day, lessons of course were given up; the study being turned
into a dressing-room, and the nursery sharing the same fate--my room was
the sanctuary where Grace and Esther sought refuge from the bustle and
confusion of the first and second floors, and no paradise it proved,
Essie being unbearably peevish and Grace unbearably provoking. Aunt
Edith tore herself away from the claims of upholsterer, florist, and
waiter for a moment, to look in upon us--gave the final directions about
our dresses, and pronounced Esther's sentence, which she had been
dreading for days, to wit, that she must not go downstairs. It was a
most proper sentence, but it was a cruel disappointment, and the child
of course cried herself into another headache. I induced her to go to
bed about seven o'clock, but she sat bolt upright, watching eagerly the
operations of the hairdresser, who had come to Grace and me, before
arranging Josephine's hair.
"Esther, do go to sleep, and stop bothering!" cried Grace. "You've done
nothing but worry this whole day."
A fresh burst of tears was the answer to this, and Grace was more
incensed than ever.
"I think this is a pursuit of pleasure under difficulties, indeed," I
exclaimed, despairing. "I hope all parties are not as much trouble! Will
it pay, do you suppose?"
"_Cela dépend_," said Grace; "if you get attended to, it may; if you
have to talk to the old ladies, and look over books of engravings in the
corner, it wont."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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