human
Now, Lettice, bring thine own gear, such as thou wilt need till we light at Minster Lovel, for there can we shift our baggage. Thy black beaver hat thou wert best to journey in, for though it be good, 'tis well worn; and thy grey kirtle and red gown. Bring the blue gown, and the tawny kirtle with the silver aglets [tags, spangles] pendant, and thy lawn rebatoes, [turn-over collar] and a couple of kerchiefs, and thy satin hat Thou wert best leave out a warm kerchief for the journey.
gpt
And my velvet hood, Aunt, and the green kirtle?
human
Nay, I have packed them, not to be fetched out till we reach London. Thou mayest have thy crimson sleeves withal, an' it list thee.
gpt
Lettice, art thou sorry to be gone?
human
Truly, Aunt, I scarce know, was the answer.
gpt
I am sorry to leave Aunt Milisent and my cousins, and Aunt Frances, --but Aunt Frances was an evident after-thought--
human
No, very like not, child.
gpt
Not now, said a third voice, softly, and Lettice looked up at another aunt whose presence she had not previously noticed. This was certainly no sister of the two plain women whose acquaintance we have just made. Temperance Murthwaite had outlived her small share of good looks, and Faith's had long since been washed away in tears; but Edith Louvaine had been extremely beautiful, and yet was so notwithstanding her forty years. Her hair was dark brown, with a golden gleam when the sun caught it, and her eyes a deep blue, almost violet. Her voice was sweet and quiet--of that type of quietness which hides behind it a reserve of power and feeling.
human
At eighteen, Lettice, we are not commonly sorry to leave home. Much sorrier at thirty-eight: and at eighty, I think, there is little to leave but graves.
gpt
Ay, but they're not all dug by the sexton, remarked Temperance, patting the blue kirtle to make it lie in the hole she had left for it.
human
At any rate, the sorest epitaphs are oft invisible save to them that have eyes to see them.
gpt
Whence came you, Edith?
human
From Mere Lea, whither I have been with Mother and Aubrey, to say farewell.
gpt
And for why came you hither? Not to say farewell, I reckon.
human
Nay, replied Edith, smiling.
gpt
I thought I might somewhat help you, Temperance. We must all try to spare poor Faith.
human
Spare poor Faith! repeated Temperance, in a sarcastic tone.
gpt
Tell you what, Edith Louvaine,--if you'd think a bit less of sparing her, and she'd think a bit more of sparing you, it would be a sight better for poor Faith and poor Edith too.
human
I? I don't want to be spared,
gpt
No, you don't, and that's just it. And Faith does. And she oughtn't. And you oughtn't.
human
Nay, Temperance. Remember, she is a widow.
gpt
Small chance of my forgetting it. Doesn't she tell me so six dozen times a day? Ask Faith to do any thing she loveth not, and she's always a widow. I've had my thoughts whether I could not be an orphan when I'm wanted to do something disagreeable. What think you?
human
I think your bark is worse than your bite, Temperance,
gpt
I'm about weary of barking, answered Temperance, laying smooth a piece of cobweb lawn.
human
I think I'll bite, one of these days. Deary me, but there are widows of divers sorts! If ever there were what Paul calls `a widow indeed,' it is my Lady Lettice; and she doesn't make a screen of it, as Faith does, against all the east winds that blow. Well, well! Give me that pin-case, Lettice, and the black girdle yonder; I lack somewhat to fill up this corner. What hour must we be at Selwick, Edith?
gpt
At five o' the clock the horses are bidden.
human
Very good. You'll bide to supper?
gpt
Nay, not without I can help you.
human
You'll not help me without you'll tell Faith she's a snivelling lazy-bones, and that you'll not, I know. Go and get your beauty-sleep-- and comfort Lady Lettice all you can.