"Invitations!" cried Miss Gascoigne; "the very thing I was expecting.
And to the best houses in Avonsbridge, too. This is the result of your
At home. I feel quite pleased at having so successfully introduced you
into good society."
"Thank you," said Christian, half amused, half--well, it is not worth
while being annoyed at such a small thing. She only looked across at
her husband to see how he felt on the matter.
"I think," said the master with a comical twinkling in his eye, "that no
society is half so good or so pleasant as our own."
Christian looked puzzled a minute, but afterward smiled gratefully.
"We may decline it, then?"
"Should you like it best?"
"I should, indeed." For, somehow, though she did not shrink from her
new life--that strange, perplexing life for which her sense of duty was
making her every day more strong--she did shrink from the outward
shows of it. To be stared at by cold, sharp, Avonsbridge eyes, or
pointed at as "the governess" whom Dr. Grey had married--worse,
perhaps, as Edward Oakley's daughter, the Edward Oakley whose
failings every body knew--"Yes," she added, quickly, "I would much
rather decline."
"Decline! when I have taken so much trouble--bought a new dress
expressly for these parties! They are bridal parties, Mrs.
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