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I'll go right and do it, only I haven't any netting," said he. "Mrs. Linceford has. I'll go and beg a piece for you. And then, if you'll just sit here a minute, I'll come, Miss Craydocke." When she came back, she brought Jeannie with her. To use a vulgar proverb, Jeannie's nose was rather out of joint since the Haughtleys had arrived.
"I was thinking it would be bad what do you call it political economy or something, if you hadn't any, that's all." "Mamma wants you," said Ginevra Thoresby, looking out at the door to call her sisters. "She's in the Haughtleys' room. They're talking about the wagon for Minster Rock to-night.
Mamma thinks the Haughtleys are such nice people, because they came in their own carriage, and they've got such big trunks, and a saddle-horse, and elegant dressing-cases, and ivory-backed brushes! I wish she didn't care so much about such things." Mrs. Thoresby would have been shocked to hear her little daughter's arrangement and version of her ideas.
One of the Miss Haughtleys had sat with them; but that only "stiffened out the dullness," as Etty had declared, the instant the young lady left them. "Don't be pert, Etty. You don't know what you want, or what is for your interest. The Haddens were well enough, by themselves; but when it comes to Tom, Dick, and Harry!"
"I don't believe that's elegant, mamma," said Etty demurely; "and there isn't Tom, Dick, nor Harry; only Dakie Thayne, and that nice, nice Miss Craydocke! And I hate the Haughtleys!" This with a sudden explosiveness at the last, after the demureness. "Etty!" and Mrs. Thoresby intoned an indescribable astonishment of displeasure in her utterance of her daughter's name, "remember yourself.
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