She did not even rise from her embroidery-frame to
watch the approach of the carriage, but went on steadily stitch by stitch
at the ear of a Blenheim spaniel. In a few minutes more she heard the clang
of doors thrown open, then the wheels upon the gravel in the quadrangle,
and then her father's voice, sonorous as of old. Even then she did not
fly to welcome him, though her heart beat a little faster, and the colour
deepened in her cheeks.
"I am nothing to him now," she thought.
She began to lay aside her wools, however, and rose as the drawing-room
door opened, to offer the travellers a stately welcome.
Clarissa was looking her loveliest, in violet silk, with a good deal of fur
about her, and with an air of style and fashion which was new to her, Miss
Granger thought. The two young women kissed each other in a formal way, and
then Mr. Granger embraced his daughter with some show of affection.
"How lovely the dear old place looks!" cried Clarissa, as the one triumph
and glory of her marriage came home to her mind: she was mistress of Arden
Court. "Everything is so warm and bright and cheerful, such an improvement
upon foreign houses. What a feast of fires and flowers you have prepared to
welcome us, Sophia!"
She wished to say something cordial to her step-daughter, and she did
really believe that the festive aspect of the house was Miss Granger's
work.
"I have not interfered with the servants' arrangements," that young lady
replied primly; "I hope you don't find so many exotics oppressive in these
hot rooms? _I_ do.
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