CHAPTER XLVII.MISS PERFECT’S TOILET“Short the evenings growing,” said Aunt Dinah, looking out upon the slanting amber sunlight, that made the landscape all so golden. “Long shadows already!” and she glanced at her broad old gold watch. “How the years go over us; Winnie, you’ve been a long time with me now—ha, ha, a long time. When first you came to me, you thought me such a shrew, and I thought you such a fool, that we both thought a parting must very soon come of it—an old termagant and an old goose,” continued Miss Perfect, nodding her head at her image in the glass. “We were not altogether wrong in that, perhaps, old Dobbs—don’t interrupt me—but, though we were neither lambs nor Solomons, we answered one another. We never parted, and we’ll live on so, don’t you think, to the end of the chapter, and a pretty long chapter it has been, and pretty near the end, Winnie Dobbs, it must be for both of us. ‘Here endeth the first lesson,’ and then comes the judgment, Winnie—‘here endeth the second lesson,’—our two great lessons, death and judgment: think of that, my good old Winnie, when you hear Doctor Mainwaring or Doctor Wagget, it is now, saying, ‘here endeth the first lesson,’ and ‘here endeth the second lesson,’ and much good may it do you.”Aunt Dinah’s lectures on such themes were generally very odd, and her manner sometimes a little flighty—people who did not know her would have almost said waggish. But her handmaiden received them always with a reverent acquiescence, having as full a faith in her mistress as honest Sancho, in his most trusting moods, ever reposed in the wisdom of the Knight of La Mancha.“Death and judgment, sure enough. Death, at any rate, that’s certain,” maundered old Dobbs.“And judgment, too, I hope,” said Aunt Dinah, sharply.“And judgment, too,” supplemented Winnie.“What do you mean, old Dobbs, as if one was more certain than the other?”“Ay, indeed. What is there certain?—nothing—nothing,” she continued, not exactly apprehending her mistress.“Tut, tut! Dobbs. Give me a pin—you don’t intend—but you sometimes say things that make my flesh creep—yes—you don’t know it—but you do.”“Dearme, Ma’am,” ejaculated old Winnie, who was never very much startled by Aunt Dinah’s violent remarks.“So, I think, old Dobbs, we shall soon have a wedding here,” said Miss Perfect, after a silence, changing the subject.“Well, well, I should not wonder, Ma’am,” answered she.“But you’re not to say one word about it to Miss Violet until she speaks to you—do you mind—not a word—and that will be, I think, to-morrow.”“To-morrow!” exclaimed Winnie.“Not the wedding, old goose, but the talk of it. I think it will be all settled to-morrow, and I’m glad, and I’m sorry. Give me my snuff-box—thanks. She hasnever spoken to you on the subject?” said Aunt Dinah.“No, no, Ma’am; never,” answered Winnie.“Nor to me. But I know all about it from another quarter, and I hope she’ll not be a fool. She’ll never have so good an offer again. I like him extremely. I have the best opinion of him, and the sergeant is very much pleased; indeed, it’s quite unexceptionable, and I do expect, Winnie Dobbs, if sheshouldtalk to you, you’ll not try to frighten her. You and I are old maids, and I believe we chose wisely; but we are not to frighten nervous girls by drawing terrific pictures of matrimony, and maundering about bad husbands and unprovided children; young girls are so easily frightened away from anything that’s prudent: and, though we are old maids, there’s a good deal to be said on the other side of the question—so, do you mind?”“Dear me, Ma’am, I’d be sorry she wasn’t to get a good husband, I would.”“And you remember the last evening, Friday last, when we were in the study, at the table, you know, where the word ‘eminently’ came. Do you remember?”“Well, I ought to, I’m sure; but my old head is not as good at bringing a thing to mind as it used to be,” hesitated Winnie.“No more it is; but the word eminently was all we got that night, and you didn’t know what the question was. Well, I’ll tell you. I asked simply, will Violet Darkwell’s marriage—hook my body, please—will Violet Darkwell’s marriage prove happy? and the answer waseminently.”“Ay, so it was, I’ll be bound, though I can’t bring it to mind; but it’s a hard word for the like o’ me to come round.”“Youareprovoking, Winnie Dobbs,” exclaimed her mistress, looking at herself defiantly in the glass.“Well, dear me! I often think I am,” acquiesced Winnie.“Well, Winnie, we are too old to change much now—the leopard his spots, and the Ethiopian his skin. There’s no good in trying to teach an old dog tricks. They must make the best of us now, Winnie, such as we are; and if this wedding does happen, I’ll trick you out in a new dress, silk every inch, for the occasion, and the handsomest cap I can find in Saxton. I’ll make you such a dandy, you’ll not know yourself in the looking-glass. You’ll come to the church as her own maid, you know, but you’re not to go away with her. You’ll stay with me, Winnie. I don’t think you’d like to leave Gilroyd.”Old Winnie hereupon witnessed a good and kindly confession.
CHAPTER XLVII.
MISS PERFECT’S TOILET
MISS PERFECT’S TOILET
MISS PERFECT’S TOILET
“Short the evenings growing,” said Aunt Dinah, looking out upon the slanting amber sunlight, that made the landscape all so golden. “Long shadows already!” and she glanced at her broad old gold watch. “How the years go over us; Winnie, you’ve been a long time with me now—ha, ha, a long time. When first you came to me, you thought me such a shrew, and I thought you such a fool, that we both thought a parting must very soon come of it—an old termagant and an old goose,” continued Miss Perfect, nodding her head at her image in the glass. “We were not altogether wrong in that, perhaps, old Dobbs—don’t interrupt me—but, though we were neither lambs nor Solomons, we answered one another. We never parted, and we’ll live on so, don’t you think, to the end of the chapter, and a pretty long chapter it has been, and pretty near the end, Winnie Dobbs, it must be for both of us. ‘Here endeth the first lesson,’ and then comes the judgment, Winnie—‘here endeth the second lesson,’—our two great lessons, death and judgment: think of that, my good old Winnie, when you hear Doctor Mainwaring or Doctor Wagget, it is now, saying, ‘here endeth the first lesson,’ and ‘here endeth the second lesson,’ and much good may it do you.”
Aunt Dinah’s lectures on such themes were generally very odd, and her manner sometimes a little flighty—people who did not know her would have almost said waggish. But her handmaiden received them always with a reverent acquiescence, having as full a faith in her mistress as honest Sancho, in his most trusting moods, ever reposed in the wisdom of the Knight of La Mancha.
“Death and judgment, sure enough. Death, at any rate, that’s certain,” maundered old Dobbs.
“And judgment, too, I hope,” said Aunt Dinah, sharply.
“And judgment, too,” supplemented Winnie.
“What do you mean, old Dobbs, as if one was more certain than the other?”
“Ay, indeed. What is there certain?—nothing—nothing,” she continued, not exactly apprehending her mistress.
“Tut, tut! Dobbs. Give me a pin—you don’t intend—but you sometimes say things that make my flesh creep—yes—you don’t know it—but you do.”
“Dearme, Ma’am,” ejaculated old Winnie, who was never very much startled by Aunt Dinah’s violent remarks.
“So, I think, old Dobbs, we shall soon have a wedding here,” said Miss Perfect, after a silence, changing the subject.
“Well, well, I should not wonder, Ma’am,” answered she.
“But you’re not to say one word about it to Miss Violet until she speaks to you—do you mind—not a word—and that will be, I think, to-morrow.”
“To-morrow!” exclaimed Winnie.
“Not the wedding, old goose, but the talk of it. I think it will be all settled to-morrow, and I’m glad, and I’m sorry. Give me my snuff-box—thanks. She hasnever spoken to you on the subject?” said Aunt Dinah.
“No, no, Ma’am; never,” answered Winnie.
“Nor to me. But I know all about it from another quarter, and I hope she’ll not be a fool. She’ll never have so good an offer again. I like him extremely. I have the best opinion of him, and the sergeant is very much pleased; indeed, it’s quite unexceptionable, and I do expect, Winnie Dobbs, if sheshouldtalk to you, you’ll not try to frighten her. You and I are old maids, and I believe we chose wisely; but we are not to frighten nervous girls by drawing terrific pictures of matrimony, and maundering about bad husbands and unprovided children; young girls are so easily frightened away from anything that’s prudent: and, though we are old maids, there’s a good deal to be said on the other side of the question—so, do you mind?”
“Dear me, Ma’am, I’d be sorry she wasn’t to get a good husband, I would.”
“And you remember the last evening, Friday last, when we were in the study, at the table, you know, where the word ‘eminently’ came. Do you remember?”
“Well, I ought to, I’m sure; but my old head is not as good at bringing a thing to mind as it used to be,” hesitated Winnie.
“No more it is; but the word eminently was all we got that night, and you didn’t know what the question was. Well, I’ll tell you. I asked simply, will Violet Darkwell’s marriage—hook my body, please—will Violet Darkwell’s marriage prove happy? and the answer waseminently.”
“Ay, so it was, I’ll be bound, though I can’t bring it to mind; but it’s a hard word for the like o’ me to come round.”
“Youareprovoking, Winnie Dobbs,” exclaimed her mistress, looking at herself defiantly in the glass.
“Well, dear me! I often think I am,” acquiesced Winnie.
“Well, Winnie, we are too old to change much now—the leopard his spots, and the Ethiopian his skin. There’s no good in trying to teach an old dog tricks. They must make the best of us now, Winnie, such as we are; and if this wedding does happen, I’ll trick you out in a new dress, silk every inch, for the occasion, and the handsomest cap I can find in Saxton. I’ll make you such a dandy, you’ll not know yourself in the looking-glass. You’ll come to the church as her own maid, you know, but you’re not to go away with her. You’ll stay with me, Winnie. I don’t think you’d like to leave Gilroyd.”
Old Winnie hereupon witnessed a good and kindly confession.