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Updated: June 19, 2025
"A great many people consider Catherine handsome," replied her mother, who began to shiver inwardly under the infliction of Mrs. Meadowsweet's talk. She tried to add something about Loftus, but for some reason or other words failed her. After a moment's pause she resumed: "Only those who know what small means are can understand the constant self-denial they inflict. "And that's true enough, Mrs.
Bertram, in a slow, meditative voice, "that a um merchant in a small town like this, might, with care, realize, say, two or three thousand pounds." Mrs. Meadowsweet's eyes almost flashed. "Two or three thousand!" she said, "dearie me, dearie me. When people talk of fortunes, in Northbury, they mean fortunes, Mrs. Bertram." "And your daughter will inherit?" asked the hostess of her guest.
She stepped into the cab, and was followed by Beatrice, Jane, the little maid, handing in after them a small band-box, which contained the cap trimmed with Honiton lace. Mrs. Meadowsweet's cheeks were slightly flushed, and her good-humored eyes were shining with contentment and satisfaction. "Oh, there's Mrs. Morris!" she said to Beatrice. "I'd better tell her where we are going.
I know you want to talk to Miss Meadowsweet, and so you shall, I won't have you balked." Here he raised his voice. "Mrs. Bell, will you steer over to Miss Meadowsweet's boat? Miss Matty, here, has something to say to her."
"Loftus, it is close on twelve o'clock. We must go home. Look at Mabel," she added, seeing her brother hesitate, "she is frightfully sleepy. Mother never allows her to be up so late. We have had a happy evening," continued Catherine, looking full into Miss Meadowsweet's face, "and we are very much obliged to you. Now I must go and say good-night to your mother."
Mrs. Meadowsweet's cheeks flushed deeply. "I'll thank you to explain yourself, Martha Butler," she said. "Whose character is drowned?" "No one's," said Mrs. Butler. "Or at least, no one who belongs to us." Here she waved one of her arms in theatrical style. "I have fought for that girl," she said, "as my sister Maria can bear testimony, and my friend Mrs.
Captain Bertram, who thought himself an adept in a certain mild, sarcastic description, was about to gratify Lady Georgiana with a graphic account of the Bells' supper-table, when his gaze met the kind, clear, happy expression of Beatrice Meadowsweet's eyes. He felt his heart stir within him. The Bells were her friends, and she was so good, bless her the best girl he had ever met.
"By Jove! the mother never thought of a better plot. Beatrice and fortune. Beatrice, and an escape into the bargain from all my worries. Poor mater! She does not know that that six hundred of hers has only just scraped me through my most pressing liabilities. But a small dip out of Beatrice Meadowsweet's fortune will soon set me on my feet.
Everybody was hungry, and even the most fastidious had to acknowledge the fare of the best. Captain Bertram quite retrieved his character in Beatrice Meadowsweet's eyes, so well did he help her in serving her guests. Matty, Alice and Sophy Bell forgave him for his abrupt departure earlier in the evening from the charms of their society, when he helped them each twice to lobster salad.
Kidderminster might be permitted in bedrooms, although Mrs. Meadowsweet would scorn to see it in any room in her house, but Brussels was surely the only correct carpet for people of medium means to cover their drawing-room floors with. The report that Mrs. Bertram's drawing-room wore a mantle of felt had reached Mrs. Meadowsweet's ears.
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