regulated house; firstly—”
“Oh, gracious, mama! Spare us the enumeration! Au reste, we
all know them: danger of bad example to innocence of childhood;
distractions and consequent neglect of duty on the part of the
attached—mutual alliance and reliance; confidence thence
resulting—insolence accompanying—mutiny and general blow-up.
Am I right, Baroness Ingram, of Ingram Park?”
“My lily-flower, you are right now, as always.”
“Then no more need be said: change the subject.”
Amy Eshton, not hearing or not heeding this dictum, joined in
with her soft, infantine tone: “Louisa and I used to quiz our
governess too; but she was such a good creature, she would bear
anything: nothing put her out. She was never cross with us; was
she, Louisa?”
“No, never: we might do what we pleased; ransack her desk and
her workbox, and turn her drawers inside out; and she was so
good-natured, she would give as anything we asked for.”
“I suppose, now,” said Miss Ingram, curling her lip
sarcastically, “we shall have an abstract of the memoirs of all the
governesses extant: in order to avert such a visitation, I again
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move the introduction of a new topic. Mr. Rochester, do you
second my motion?”
“Madam, I support you on this point, as on every other.”
“Then on me be the onus of bringing it forward. Signior
Eduardo, are you in voice to-night?”
“Donna Bianca, if you command it, I will be.”
“Then, signior, I lay on you my sovereign behest to furbish up
your lungs and other vocal organs, as they will be wanted on my
royal service.”
“Who would not be the Rizzio of so divine a Mary?”
“A fig for Rizzio!” cried she, tossing her head with all its curls,
as she moved to the piano. “It is my opinion the fiddler David must
have been an insipid sort of fellow; I like black Bothwell better: to
my mind a man is nothing without a spice of the devil in him; and
history may say what it will of James Hepburn, but I have a
notion, he was just the sort of wild, fierce, bandit hero whom I
could have consented to gift with my hand.”
“Gentlemen, you hear! Now which of you most resembles
Bothwell?” cried Mr. Rochester.
“I should say the preference lies with you,” responded Colonel
Dent.
“On my honour, I am much obliged to you,” was the reply.
Miss Ingram, who had now seated herself with proud grace at
the piano, spreading out her snowy robes in queenly amplitude,
commenced a brilliant prelude; talking meantime. She appeared
to be on her high horse to-night; both her words and her air
seemed intended to excite not only the admiration, but the
amazement of her auditors: she was evidently bent on striking
them as something very dashing and daring indeed.
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“Oh, I am so sick of the young men of the present day!”
exclaimed she, rattling away at the instrument. “Poor, puny
things, not fit to stir a step beyond papa’s park gates: nor to go
even so far without mama’s permission and guardianship!
Creatures so absorbed in care about their pretty faces, and their
white hands, and their small feet; as if a man had anything to do
with beauty! As if loveliness were not the special prerogative of
woman—her legitimate appanage and heritage! I grant an ugly
woman is a blot on the fair face of creation; but as to the gentlemen,
let them be solicitous to possess onl
