Lacy and her pupil dined at the ladies' luncheon; and this was
pleasanter than the breakfast, from the presence of Aunt Jane, whose
kiss of greeting was a comforting cheering moment, and who always was
so much distressed and hurt at the sight of her sister's displeasure,
that Aunt Barbara seldom reproved before her. She always had a kind
word to say; Mrs. Lacy seemed brighter and less oppressed in the
sound of her voice; everyone was more at ease; and when speaking to
her, or waiting upon her, Lady Barbara was no longer stern in manner
nor dry in voice. The meal was not lively; there was nothing like
the talk about parish matters, nor the jokes that she was used to;
and though she was helped first, and ceremoniously waited on, she
might not speak unless she was spoken to; and was it not very cruel,
first to make everything so dull that no one could help yawning, and
then to treat a yawn as a dire offence?
The length of the luncheon was a great infliction, because all the
time from that to three o'clock was her own. It was a poor remnant
of the entire afternoons which she and Sylvia had usually disposed of
much as they pleased; and even what there was of it, was not to be
spent in the way for which the young limbs longed. No one was likely
to play at blind man's buff and hare and hounds in that house; and
even her poor attempt at throwing her gloves or a pen-wiper against
the wall, and catching them in the rebound, and her scampers up-
stairs two steps at once, and runs down with a leap down the last
four steps, were summarily stopped, as unladylike, and too noisy for
Aunt Jane.
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