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Updated: August 13, 2024
Wynnstay in the drawing-room alone, one on either side of the fire. Lady Charlotte was reading the latest political biography with an apparent profundity of attention; Mr. Wynnstay was lounging and caressing the cat. But both his aunt's absorption and Mr. Wynnstay's nonchalance seemed to Flaxman overdone. He suspected a domestic breeze. Lady Charlotte made him effusively welcome.
Darcy; the squire took Lady Charlotte. Catherine fell to Mr. Bickerton, Rose to Mr. Wynnstay, and the rest found their way in as best they could. Catherine seeing the distribution was happy for a moment, till she found that if Rose was covered on her right she was exposed to the full fire of the enemy on her left, in other words that Langham was placed between her and Dr. Meyrick.
Darcy, released from Mr. Wynnstay, threw herself with glee on to her longed-for prey, the young and interesting-looking Rector.
To his visits to the West of England and North Wales about this time we owe some charming sketches the two "Wynnstay Theatre Tickets," for instance, dating from some visit to Sir Watkin Williams Wynn when theatricals were in the air at Wynnstay, and that lovely print of "The Modern Graces," drawn, it is said, from the three beautiful Misses Shakespere during the stay of our artist at Aston; while those two prints of "Peasants from the Vale of Llangollen" hint at some pleasant ramble in the Welsh hills.
'She wouldn't be a woman if she didn't! observed Mr. Wynnstay, sotto voce. The small dark man was lost in a great arm-chair, his delicate painter's hands playing with the fur of a huge Persian cat. Lady Charlotte threw him an eagle glance, and he subsided, for the moment. Flaxman, however, was perfectly right. There had been a breeze.
Wynnstay was safely occupied with Rose, and the Squire with Lady Charlotte that she had once written a novel? Robert, who had been posted up in many things concerning the neighborhood by Lady Helen Varley, could answer most truly that he had. Whereupon Mrs. Darcy beamed all over. 'Ah! but you haven't read it, she said regretfully. 'It was when I was Maid of Honor, you know.
He and she differed on three main points: politics; the decoration of their London house, Sir. Wynnstay being a lover of Louis Quinze, and Lady Charlotte a preacher of Morris; and the composition of their dinner-parties.
Wynnstay, 'to the French priests who came to see us last winter in Paris. They never minded a bit they used to laugh: "Monsieur votre frère, madame, c'est un homme qui a trop lu," they would say to me when I gave them their coffee. Oh, they were such dears, those old priests! Roger said they had great hopes of me. The chatter was welcome, the conversation broke up.
The other guests were Lady Charlotte Wynnstay, a cousin of the Squire a tall, imperious, loud-voiced woman, famous in London society for her relationships, her audacity, and the salon which in one way or another she managed to collect round her; her dark, thin, irritable-looking husband; two neighboring clerics the first, by name Longstaffe, a somewhat inferior specimen of the cloth, whom Robert cordially disliked; and the other, Mr.
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