"I!--but _you_--"

"To be sure, ma'am, there's a great deal of difference between I and you: only when one comes to bargaining--"

She paused, seeing wrath gathering black and dire in her young lady's countenance; before it burst, she changed her tone, and continued, "All I mean to say, ma'am, is, that white satin being a style of thing I could not pretend to think of wearing in any shape myself, I could only take it to part with again, and in the existing circ.u.mstances, I'm confident I should lose by it. But rather than disoblige, I'll take it at whatever you please."

"Nay, I don't please about the matter, Lydia; but I am sure you had an excellent bargain of my lavender satin, which I had only worn but twice."

"Dear heart!--La, ma'am! if you knew what trouble I had with Mrs.

Sparkes, the dress-maker, about it, because of the coffee-stain--And I vow to my stars I am ashamed to mention it; but Mrs. Scrags, Lady Trant's woman, and both the Lady Arlingtons' maids, can vouch for the truth of it. I did not make a penny, but lost, ma'am, last year, by you and Miss Bell; that is, not by you nor Miss Bell, but by all I bought, and sold to disadvantage; which, I am morally certain, you would not have permitted, had you known of it, as I told Mrs. Scrags, who was wondering and pitying of me: my young ladies, Mrs. Scrags, says I--"

"No matter," interrupted Georgiana; "no matter what you said to Mrs.

Scrags, or Mrs. Scrags to you--but tell me at once, Lydia, what you can afford to give me for these three gowns."

"I afford to give!" said Lydia Sharpe. "Well, the times is past, to be sure, and greatly changed, since ladies used to give, but now it's their maids must give--then, suppose--let's see, ma'am--for the three, the old white satin, and the amber satin, and the black lace--why, ma'am, if you'd throw me the pink c.r.a.pe into the bargain, I don't doubt but I could afford to give you nine guineas, ma'am," said the maid.

"Then, Lydia Sharpe, you will never have them, I promise you," cried the mistress: "Nine guineas! how can you have the a.s.surance to offer me such a sum? As if I had never bought a gown in my life, and did not know the value or price of any thing! Do you take me for a fool?"

"Oh! dear no, miss--I'm confident that you know the value and price to the uttermost penny--but only you forget that there's a difference betwixt the buying and selling price for ladies; but if you please, ma'am--I would do any thing to oblige and accommodate you--I will consult the Lady Arlingtons' women, Miss Flora, and Miss Prichard, who is judges in this line--most honourable appraisers; and if they praise the articles, on inspection, a shilling higher, I am sure I shall submit to their jurisdiction--if they say ten guineas, ma'am, you shall have it, for I love to be at a word and a blow--and to do every thing genteel: so I'll step and consult my friends, ma'am, and give you my ultimatum in half an hour."

So saying, whilst her young mistress stood flushed and swelling with pride and anger, which, however, the sense of her own convenience and interest controlled, the maid swept up the many coloured robes in her arms, and carried them up the back stairs, to hold her consultation with her friends, the most honourable of appraisers.

"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Falconer, returning as she heard the maid quit the room, "have you driven your bargain for the loan? Have you raised the supplies?"

"No, indeed, ma'am--for Lydia is grown a perfect Jew. She may well say she is related to Sharpe, the attorney--she is the keenest, most interested creature in the world--and grown very saucy too."

"Like all those people, my dear; but one can't do without them."

"But one can change them."

"But, to use their own language, one is not sure of bettering oneself--and then their wages are to be paid--and all one's little family secrets are at their mercy."

"It's very provoking--it is very provoking!" repeated Miss Georgiana, walking up and down the room. "Such an extortioner!--for my amber satin, and my white satin, and my black lace, and my pink c.r.a.pe, only nine guineas! What do you think of that, ma'am?"

"I think, my dear, you pay a prodigious premium for ready money; but nine guineas will dress Zara decently, I dare say, if that's your object."

"Nine guineas! ma'am," cried Miss Georgiana, "impossible! I can't act at all--so there's an end of the matter."

"Not an end of the matter quite," said Mrs. Falconer, coolly; "for in that case I must look out for another Zara."

"And where will you find one, ma'am?"

"The Lady Arlingtons have both fine figures--and, I dare say, would either of them oblige me."

"Not they. Lady Anne, with her indolence and her languor--a lady who looks as if she was saying, 'Quasha, tell Quaco to tell Fibba to pick up this pin that lies at my foot;' do you think she'd get a part by heart, ma'am, to oblige you--or that she could, if she would, act Zara?--No more than she could fly!"

"But her sister, Lady Frances, would and could," said Mrs. Falconer.

"She is quick enough, and I know she longs to try Zara."

"Longs!--Lord, ma'am, she longs for fifty things in a minute!--Quick!--Yes, but don't depend on her, I advise you; for she does not know, for two seconds together, what she would have or what she would do."

"Then I have resource in one who, I am persuaded, will not disappoint me or any body else," said Mrs. Falconer.

"Whom can you mean, ma'am?"

"Miss Caroline Percy. Count Altenberg put it into my head: he observed that she would look the character remarkably well--and I will write to her directly."

Without power of articulating, Miss Georgiana Falconer fixed her eyes upon her mother for some moments.

"You think I have lost my senses this morning--I thought, and I am afraid so did many other people, that you had lost yours last night.

Another such scene, your friends the Lady Arlingtons for spectators, you are ridiculous, and, of course, undone for life in the fashionable world--establishment, and every thing else that is desirable, irrevocably out of the question. I am surprised that a girl of your understanding and really polished manners, Georgiana, should, the moment any thing crosses or vexes you, show no more command of temper, grace, or dignity, than the veriest country girl. When things go wrong, do you see me lose all presence of mind; or rather, do you ever see me change a muscle of my countenance?"

"The muscles of some people's countenance, ma'am, I suppose, are differently made from others--mine will change with my feelings, and there is no remedy, for my feelings unfortunately are uncommonly acute."

"That is a misfortune, indeed, Georgiana; but not without remedy, I trust. If you will take my advice--"

"Were you ever in love, ma'am?"

"Properly--when every thing was settled for my marriage; but not improperly, or it might never have come to my wedding-day. Headstrong child! listen to me, or you will never see that day with Count Altenberg."

"Do you mean, ma'am, to ask Miss Caroline Percy to play Zara?"

"I will answer no question, Georgiana, till you have heard me patiently."

"I only hope, ma'am, you'll put it in the play-bill--or, if you don't, I will--Zara, Miss Caroline Percy--by particular desire of Count Altenberg."

"Whatever I do, you may hope and be a.s.sured, Georgiana, shall be properly done," cried Mrs. Falconer, rising with dignity; "and, since you are not disposed to listen to me, I shall leave you to your own inventions, and go and write my notes."

"La, mamma! dear mamma! _dear'st_ mamma!" cried the young lady, throwing her arms round her mother, and stopping her. "You that never change a muscle of your countenance, how hasty you are with your own Georgiana!--sit down, and I'll listen patiently!"

Mrs. Falconer seated herself, and Miss Georgiana prepared to listen patiently, armed with a piece of gold fringe, which she rolled and unrolled, and held in different lights and varied festoons whilst her mother spoke, or, as the young lady would say, lectured. Mrs. Falconer was too well aware of the impracticableness of her daughter's temper to tell her upon this occasion the whole truth, even if her own habits would have permitted her to be sincere. She never mentioned to Georgiana that she had totally given up the scheme of marrying her to Count Altenberg, and that she was thoroughly convinced there was no chance of her winning him; but, on the contrary, she represented to the young lady that the Count had only a transient fancy for Miss Caroline Percy, which would never come to any serious proposal, unless it was opposed; that in a short time they should go to town, and the Count, of course, would return with Lord Oldborough: then the game would be in her own hands, provided, in the mean time, Georgiana should conduct herself with prudence and temper, and let no creature see or suspect any sort of anxiety; for that would give such an advantage against her, and such a triumph to Caroline and her friends, who, as Mrs. Falconer said, were, no doubt, all on the watch to "interpret," or misinterpret, "motions, looks, and eyes." "My dear," concluded the mother, "your play is to show yourself always easy and happy, whatever occurs; occupied with other things, surrounded by other admirers, and encouraging them properly--properly of course to pique the jealousy of your Count."

"My Count!" said Georgiana, with half a smile; "but Miss--You say this fancy of his will pa.s.s away--but when? When?"

"You young people always say, '_but when?_' you have no idea of looking forward: a few months, a year, more or less, what does it signify?

Georgiana, are you in such imminent danger of growing old or ugly?"

Georgiana turned her eyes involuntarily towards the gla.s.s, and smiled.

"But, ma'am, you were not in earnest then about getting another Zara."

"The offer I made--the compliments I paid in the note I wrote this morning, were all necessary to cover your mistakes of the night."

"Made! Wrote!" cried the young lady, with terror in her voice and eyes: "Good Heavens! mother, what have you done?"

"I had no doubt at the time I wrote," continued Mrs. Falconer, coolly, "I had no other idea, but that Miss Caroline Percy would decline."

"Oh! ma'am," cried Georgiana, half crying, then stamping with pa.s.sion, "Oh! ma'am, how could you imagine, or affect to imagine, that that girl, that odious girl, who was born to be my plague, with all her affected humility, would decline?--Decline!--no, she will be transported to come sweeping in, in gorgeous tragedy--Zara! Marcia! If the whole family can beg or borrow a dress for her, we are undone--that's our only chance.

Oh! mother, what possessed you to do this?"