I should like to know something about them, said Harry, feeling himself quite at home with Martha, evidently a kind and sensible woman, and, as people would say, a bit of a character.
Thats very sensible in you, Harry, she answered. Fortunately they have been all out, and only lately went up to dress, so that I shall have time to tell you about them. Next to me there is Susan she is like me in most respects, and some people take us for twins. However, she really is two years younger. Then there is Mary. She has only one fault. She is somewhat sentimental,
and too fond of poetry reads Cowper and Crabbe, and Miss Burneys novels, half-bound volumes in marble covers. She sighs over Evelina, and goes into raptures with Clarissa. She is dark, thin, and slight, not a bit like Susan and me. Then there is Maria Jane. She is fair and addicted to laughing, and very good-natured, and not a bit sentimental. Then there is Estella. Harry, you must take care of her. She is something like Mary, but more lively and more practical too. Mary lives in an idea of her own: Estella carries out her romantic notions. Then there is our youngest sister, Sybella, or baby we always used to call her, but she rather objects to the appellation. You must find out about her yourself. There, now you know us all. You are known to us, so you will find yourself perfectly at home by the time you see us assembled round the dinner-table. As we have no brothers we shall make a great deal of you, and take care that you are not spoilt. Above all things, dont fall in love. You will become hideous and useless if you do. I dont at all approve of the passion, except when exhibited in gentlemen of comfortable incomes, nor does papa. I warn you of that, so if you wish to take advantage of such hospitality as we can afford you and we really desire to be kind you have been cautioned and must act accordingly.
Harry cordially thanked Martha for the description of her sisters, and with perfect sincerity promised to follow her advice. It showed him that she, at all events, was not aware of his love for Mabel, and though he thought her a very good-natured woman, he had no intention of making her his confidant on that matter.
Harry had soon the opportunity of discovering the correctness of her description of her sisters. The youngest came in last. There was a considerable amount of beauty among them, so that they passed for a family of pretty girls, but when he saw Sybella, he at once acknowledged that she surpassed them all.
She was a bright little fairy, just entering womanhood. Curiously like Mabel, so he thought: indeed, he would not otherwise have admired her so much.
I am not surprised that Martha warned me, he thought to himself. If it were not for Mabel, I should certainly have fallen in love with that little girl, and yet Mabel is her superior in many ways; I am sure of that.
They were seated at the dinner-table when these thoughts came into Master Harrys head. Sybellas eyes met his. She blushed. Could she have divined his thoughts?
His uncle was very kind. No man indeed appeared to better advantage at his dinner-table than did Mr Coppinger. He at once made Harry feel perfectly at home, and as his cousins addressed him by his Christian name, he soon found himself calling them by theirs in return.
We must make a great deal of use of you, Harry, said Miss Coppinger. We sadly want a beau to accompany us in the evenings when we go out. Father cannot often come with us. He comes home tired from business. We six spinsters have consequently to spend most of our time in solitude.
You do not look as if you had often been melancholy, said Harry. However, I shall be very happy to be at your service whenever you choose to command me.
Very prettily spoken, answered Martha.
When Harry glanced round at his six blooming cousins he felt that they were not likely often to be left in solitude. There were a few other guests at table Alderman Bycroft and his wife and daughter; one a full-blown rose, the other a bursting bud, giving promise of the same full proportions as her mother.
There was a young gentleman, the son of a wealthy distiller, dressed in the height of fashion, who seemed to consider that he was greatly honouring Mr Coppingers family by his presence, and there was another youth of unpretending appearance, who looked as if he felt himself highly honoured by the invitation, though he had in reality taken a high degree at the University, and was the descendant of a long line of proud ancestors.
The distiller, Mr Gilby, was inclined to patronise Harry, especially when he heard Lady Tryon spoken of.
I will show you a little of London life, my boy, he whispered. You know nothing of it as yet, and unless you had a friend like me to introduce you, you might live ten years here and know no more of the ins and outs and doings of this great city than you do now.
Mr Tryon would thereby, I suspect, be more fortunate than if he were introduced to the ways of London as you suggest, observed Mr Pennant, the pale-faced young student.