# The Semi-attached Couple/Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI
"I wish mamma did not hate dining at Eskdale Castle," said Eliza to her sister when they went to their own room; "and I wish they would ask us a little oftener; I think it is very good fun going there."
"Do you?" said Sarah, in an absent tone.
"Yes, I like their large rooms, and the armchairs, and the sofas, and the sort of smell of wealth that there is about the house. And the dinner itself is so good. How lucky it is that mamma does not hear me! It is the sort of thing she would hate me to say; but the soup was perfectly delicious, so unlike our dull Scotch broth; only I wish it had not been spilt on my new gown, and on the front breadth too; just look, Sarah. What a pity! and it was all the fault of the servant. Those great tall footmen frighten me out of my senses, and I wish they would not go on offering one all the dishes, it is so tiresome; I go on saying 'No, no, no,' all dinner-time. Lord Beaufort said I ate nothing."
"Ah, by the by, miss," said Sarah, rousing up, "how came you to contrive to sit by Lord Beaufort? You are always taking the best places, and as I am the eldest, I ought to have my choice sometimes."
"Yes, but as I am the youngest, other people have their choice," said Eliza, laughing. "However, you need not mind it this time, Sarah. Lord Beaufort was obliged to take the only place that was vacant, because he did not come in, you know, till dinner was half over, and so that ​was the reason why he sat by me. He spoke to me three times, and asked me to have some wine. Did you observe his waistcoat, Sarah? 'such a love!' as Lady Eskdale would say."
"How you do run on, Eliza! I wish you would let me have the looking-glass for one minute, if you have looked at yourself enough."
"Law, my dear, you may have it for a week if you like. I was only taking a last fond look at this dear gown, before I take it off. I shan't have an opportunity, probably, of wearing it again for the next six months; not that I shall actually have any great pleasure in it again, because of those grease spots. I wish that servant had not done it. So awkward and provoking! However, I hope we shall dine there again some day or another."
"And I hope we never shall as long as we live," said Sarah, emphatically. She had taken one look at herself in the glass, and then threw herself into a chair with an air of deep despondency.
"Never dine there again as long as we live!" repeated Eliza. "Why, Sarah, what is the matter? You can't be well. What can have happened?"
"Something dreadful," said Sarah, in a deep tone.
"Why, what can it be? You have not greased your gown too?" said Eliza, starting up as if she had made a great discovery.
"No."
"What then? Have you lost anything? forgotten your fan? dropped your bracelet?"
"Oh, no; worse than all that; it is something dreadful that has been said of us."
"Good gracious! what? What can they find to say of us?"
"Something quite shocking!" and Sarah actually coloured at the mere thought of repeating it.
​"Well, tell it, at all events; I should like to know the worst."
"It was just when you were sitting by the pianoforte, and I was behind the sofa, and Mr. Trevor came up to Lady Eskdale and said, looking at the flowers and the silver comb in your hair, 'Don't you think those silver épergnes full of flowers would look better on a dining-table than walking about a drawing-room? I know nothing of dress, but is not that a little in the May-day line—rather chimney-sweeperish?'"
"No, did he really say that?" and Eliza looked aghast. "What a horrid man!"
"Yes, but that is not the worst. Lady Eskdale said, 'Don't laugh at those poor girls, Alfred; they are dear good creatures, though they are vulgarly dressed.' There, Eliza, now is not that dreadful, and so hard too, when we took such pains about our dress, and thought it was so nice?" and Sarah's voice quivered with vexation.
"Oh, never mind, dear; don't fret about it, you did look very nice. I'm sure I thought so; and if we wore too many flowers to-day, next time we will wear none; and as for that Mr. Trevor, I dare say he knows nothing about dress."
"But I wish we were not like chimney-sweepers."
"I say, Sarah, it would be rather good fun to go to Eskdale Castle with our faces blackened, and we, covered with flowers and tinsel, dancing round Mr. Trevor, rattling our shovels."
"Don't talk nonsense, Eliza. I never thought we were vulgar."
"Nor I; but we cannot help it if we are. I think we are two very nice girls, and Helen does not despise us. Oh, Sarah, how beautiful she is, and how I should like to be going to be married to Lord Teviot! that is, I should not like it at all except I were Helen. I should be afraid of him as I am."
​"Ah, she looked very pretty," said Sarah. "She had no flowers in her hair," and with a deep sigh, Sarah unpinned a gigantic bunch of camellias, "and her hair was braided quite smooth"; and Sarah gave a desperate tug at a highly frizzed set of bows which she had built up on the top of her head with some pride.
Eliza burst out laughing; Sarah's distress seemed to her to be out of all proportion to the calamity, and she was too merry and too light-hearted herself to be discomposed by such a trifle. "I hope they will ask us again," she murmured as she sank to sleep.
"What shall we wear if they do?" Sarah responded.
"Black jackets, tin foil, and calico roses, with shovels for fans," said Eliza, in a sleepy voice; and in another moment their troubles were forgotten.