Lady Cumnor was out of health; but not so ill as she had been
fancying herself during all those days when the people about her
dared not send for the doctor. It was a great relief to her to have
Mr. Gibson to decide for her what she was to do; what to eat, drink,
avoid. Such decisions _ab extra_, are sometimes a wonderful relief
to those whose habit it has been to decide, not only for themselves,
but for every one else; and occasionally the relaxation of the strain
which a character for infallible wisdom brings with it, does much to
restore health. Mrs. Kirkpatrick thought in her secret soul that she
had never found it so easy to get on with Lady Cumnor; and Bradley
and she had never done singing the praises of Mr. Gibson, "who always
managed my lady so beautifully."
Reports were duly sent up to my lord, but he and his daughters were
strictly forbidden to come down. Lady Cumnor wished to be weak
and languid, and uncertain both in body and mind, without family
observation. It was a condition so different to anything she had
ever been in before, that she was unconsciously afraid of losing her
prestige, if she was seen in it. Sometimes she herself wrote the
daily bulletins; at other times she bade Clare do it, but she would
always see the letters. Any answers she received from her daughters
she used to read herself, occasionally imparting some of their
contents to "that good Clare." But anybody might read my lord's
letters. There was no great fear of family secrets oozing out in his
sprawling lines of affection. But once Mrs. Kirkpatrick came upon a
sentence in a letter from Lord Cumnor, which she was reading out loud
to his wife, that caught her eye before she came to it, and if she
could have skipped it and kept it for private perusal, she would
gladly have done so. My lady was too sharp for her, though. In her
opinion "Clare was a good creature, but not clever," the truth
being that she was not always quick at resources, though tolerably
unscrupulous in the use of them.
"Read on. What are you stopping for? There is no bad news, is there,
about Agnes?--Give me the letter."
Lady Cumnor read, half aloud,--
"'How are Clare and Gibson getting on? You despised my advice to help
on that affair, but I really think a little match-making would be a
very pleasant amusement now that you are shut up in the house; and I
cannot conceive any marriage more suitable.'"