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Updated: July 2, 2025
Nothing further had been said by Lady Fawn to urge the invitation; but, in accordance with the arrangement already made, Lady Eustace, with her child, her nurse, and her own maid, was at Fawn Court by four o'clock. A very long letter had been received from Mrs. Hittaway that morning, the writing of which must have seriously interfered with the tranquillity of her Sunday afternoon.
Hittaway Thought In the way of duty Lord Fawn was a Hercules, not, indeed, "climbing trees in the Hesperides," but achieving enterprises which, to other men, if not impossible, would have been so unpalatable as to have been put aside as impracticable. On the Monday morning, after he was accepted by Lady Eustace, he was with his mother at Fawn Court before he went down to the India Office.
"But anything, mamma, is better than that Frederic should be allowed to marry such a woman as that. It must be proved to him how unfit she is to be his wife." With the view of carrying out this intention, Mrs. Hittaway had, as we have seen, received Andy Gowran at her own house; and with the same view she took Andy Gowran the following morning down to Richmond. Mrs.
Hittaway felt herself called upon to explain to her friends that she was forced to go to Dumdum House by the duties of old friendship. Dear old Lady Pierrepoint had been insisting on it for the last ten years.
You see, dear Lady Eustace is so very popular, that we all want to know what is to be her fate." "I regret to say that I cannot answer your ladyship's question with any precision," said Lord Fawn. But the Hittaway persecution was by far the worst. "You have seen her, Frederic?" said his sister. "Yes, I have." "You have made her no promise?"
Even Lord Fawn had expressed his desire that she should remain. And then, in the breasts of the wise ones, all faith in the Greystock engagement had nearly vanished. Another letter had come from Mrs. Hittaway, who now declared that it was already understood about Portray that Lady Eustace intended to marry her cousin.
And, having been emancipated from maternal control for the last ten or twelve years, she could express herself before her mother with more confidence than would have become the other girls. "Mamma," she said, "you don't mean it!" "I do mean it, Clara. Why should I not mean it?" "She is the greatest vixen in all London." "Oh, Clara!" said Augusta. "And such a liar," said Mrs. Hittaway.
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