Margaret’s first feeling on awaking next morning was relief that her
mother now knew all. There had been very little to know or to conceal,
but it was a comfort to feel that the reason for her reticence--the
apprehension of being talked over at Barton Park--was understood. Mrs.
Dashwood was quite ready to seem satisfied by this explanation, though
she felt herself at liberty to think what more she chose.
Margaret, by her confidence and by her tears, had ensured herself
against any further reproach from Mrs. Dashwood. She was not, however,
ensured against discomfort from other causes. No sooner was breakfast
over than Sir John’s loud voice, Mrs. Jennings’s cheerful talking, and
Mrs. Palmer’s hearty laughter were heard in the hall. Mrs. Jennings
could not resist coming to see how Miss Margaret looked after parting
with her new beau.
“The Commander is a very fine young man, my dear, though he has such
low connections and no fortune to speak of. A good riddance, I say,
Mrs. Dashwood! He would not do for Miss Margaret at all, but I will
not deny that he is agreeable. Mr. Palmer and he were at it hammer and
tongs with their politics and their this and their that. I never heard
Mr. Palmer say so much before.”
Margaret’s only reply was a smile, harder to assume than when young Mr.
Carey or Mr. Atherton was the beau referred to. She could not conceive
how so much was known, but would not make a single inquiry. It could
not be long before something intelligible was uttered when so much was
being said by three people all at once.
It was Mrs. Palmer who enlightened her.
“My mother is always for making a joke, but you know we did think it
strange when Commander Pennington described you, and asked where you
lived. There was something about a scarf to be returned, I think. I did
not understand it all. It seems your scarf blew away and he caught it.
I hope you have it safe again.”
“Yes,” replied Margaret, “it was returned to me.”
“Oh,” cried Mrs. Jennings, “but that was only the beginning of your
acquaintance. And now he is gone, and that had better be the end, Miss
Margaret. We cannot have you taken all over the world, when there are
several near at hand who would like to keep you here.”
Mrs. Dashwood endeavoured to lead the conversation away from Margaret
by inquiring as to the intimacy between Mr. Palmer and Commander
Pennington. Mrs. Palmer was delighted to be the chief talker, and
related how they had been at the Royal Naval Academy at Portsmouth
together, but that Mr. Palmer had succeeded to the property. So it
had ended in his not going into the navy after all, and very glad she
was of it, as to have a husband at sea would be a shocking thing. She
laughed merrily at the thought, and was still more amused at the idea
that with the war still going on there would have been danger of her
becoming a widow.
“But of course I should never have married him at all in that case,
so I should not have minded it in the least, except that of course I
should not have liked to be an old maid.”
Mrs. Palmer, having been thus providentially spared from early
widowhood and perpetual spinsterhood by the circumstance of Mr. Palmer
not having entered the navy, was naturally against that profession. She
had much to say of its evils, and recounted with hearty laughter the
hardships that she knew to be the lot of a naval officer’s wife.
She was on her way to London. Mr. Palmer would call for her almost
immediately. The House was sitting, and he had his duties as a member.
She called specially to know if Mrs. Dashwood had any message for
her son and his wife, as she would be very happy to convey it. Mrs.
Dashwood was firm that she had no such message to send. She had written
to them a day or two ago, and had nothing to add to what she had then
written.
Sir John and Mrs. Jennings were warm in giving the usual invitation to
dinner. It was urgent in this case, as the loss of Mr. and Mrs. Palmer
would leave them disconsolate, a party of five, when only yesterday
they had sat down eight to dinner. Mrs. Dashwood could not be so cruel
as to refuse.
Mrs. Dashwood was, however, deaf to all calls of humanity, and would
have excused her daughter also, but Margaret, seeing clearly that
any reluctance on her part to go into society would be construed as
“wearing the willow,” accepted with seeming satisfaction, and Sir John
and Mrs. Jennings returned to the Park easy in their minds that Mr.
Atherton’s chances were as good as ever.
Mrs. Palmer remained to chatter for half an hour till her chaise
arrived, to give Margaret repeated invitations to join her in London,
all of which were steadily declined, and to recount over and over again
the sayings and doings of her son, only four years old, but already
famed for his wit and beauty.
Mr. Palmer came. Margaret would have liked to hear something of his
friendships at the Royal Naval Academy, but he had very little to
say beyond grumbling at the weather and the roads. Mrs. Dashwood
congratulated him on having effected a meeting with his friend, and he
replied that it had been very agreeable. He further volunteered that
he wished there were more like Pennington, but that was all; and the
couple soon drove off, Mrs. Palmer laughing and waving till she was out
of sight.
Margaret hardened her mind as she dressed for her dinner engagement
that afternoon. She would not pay any attention to their jokes, and
she would not understand their questions. She was prepared for much
discomfort which she would bear with a smiling face. In the event it
was not so bad. As before, Miss Nancy Steele had much to say, and had
no idea that Commander Pennington was to be interested in anyone but
herself. The Commander and the Doctor took up about the same space in
her mind and Mr. Atherton had all the rest. Margaret found that she
had no need for defence against jocularity, as all the wit was to be
expended elsewhere. Mr. Atherton sat next her and was attentive, but
his gallantry took the form of praising her music, and this gave her
an excuse to pass most of the time after dinner at the instrument. It
was a fine one and to play on it gave her real pleasure.
As Lady Middleton, who was fond of cards, was able to get up a rubber,
and Sir John had been out all the morning and was glad to get some
sleep, the party may be said to have been productive of more enjoyment
than is usual at such gatherings. There was no one who had not some
degree of happiness, and even Miss Nancy Steele, who had Mrs. Jennings
for a partner, and would have preferred Mr. Atherton, was consoled by
winning three shillings, which would just pay for the new pink ribbons
she wished to purchase in time for her next meeting with the Doctor.