Miss Landon and Aubranael

Part 13

Now, I'm a troll o' few words. I can no more manage eloquence than I can dance a quadrille, an' believe me, I've tried. So ye'll no doubt excuse me if I say only that I was right proud t' hear o' my Sophy's triumph, an' don't try to tell ye how much. Ye may draw yer own conclusions as t' that.

But I'll admit: as fond o' Sophy as I am, I also know full well that she don't usually "take", in the way the gentry-folk say; not like that! She ain't usually pestered wi' invitations and solicitations an' the like. Just between you an' me, I think it's as much because she don't put herself forward. She hangs back, an' lets herself be eclipsed by bolder types—like that Miss Adair.

But anywho, I got curious about this Mr. Stanton. He must be a gentleman o' rare perception if he caught hold o' my Sophy's merits in so short a space o' time. I'm not sayin' it's an impossibility, mind! No, indeed! But I were curious, as I said, so I made a point o' lookin' into the matter, didn't I?

'Mama would like you to come and spend a day with us again soon, Sophy. Do say you will come! We would all be so glad of your company!'

Isabel Ellerby stood in the centre of Sophy's parlour, wearing the pretty lavender silk gown she had previously worn to the ball. She would not normally be so attired in the middle of the morning, but in the crush of the ball her gown had been trodden upon, and the delicate fabric had torn. Sophy was on her knees at Isabel's feet, her hands full of silk and needles and her mouth full of pins as she attempted to mend the tear.

Taking the pins out from between her lips, she shook her head and replied, 'I am not at all sure I shall have time. Papa has a great deal of mending for me to do—as ever—and I must at least try to be of use to poor Mary and Thundigle.'

'What a shocking untruth! Of course you have time. It is only that you do not wish to come.'

Sophy sighed inwardly. It was not that she did not like the Ellerbys; she did, very much. But their goodwill was sometimes overpowering, and she had so little to offer in return. She hated to feel like a charity case, and the extreme kindness of Mrs. Ellerby made her feel like an object of pity.

Furthermore, the lively family life that Isabel enjoyed made her feel her own lack the more keenly. It was best to keep her visits infrequent, she found.

'I am very much obliged to you for the invitation,' Sophy said, giving her friend a warm smile to show her gratitude. As she did so, the sharp tip of her needle somehow found its way into her finger, and a tiny spot of red blossomed on Isabel's fine lavender silk.

'Oops,' Sophy said, absently scrubbing at it with a scrap of cloth. 'Please convey my thanks and regards to your mother, also. She is far too good.'

'But the answer, I collect, is still no,' Isabel said, craning her neck to see what Sophy was doing behind her. 'Has something gone amiss?'

'Nothing of any great moment.' No one would ever see the tiny speck of red, Sophy assured herself, though resolving at the same time to pay a bit less attention to the conversation, and a bit more to the whereabouts of her needle.

Isabel smiled ruefully down at her, shaking her head. 'I will need you next Tuesday, for Anne is to come to us. You know she will tease poor Charles until he is quite out of patience if you are not there.'

Charles was Isabel's elder brother, and the pride of the Ellerby family. He was heir to their small but worthy estate, soon to take orders and become a clergyman. And he was, as yet, unmarried. Naturally, this made him a great favourite with Anne.