“How ridiculous!” muttered Carrie, thrumming away at the piano. “There’s no time to make dresses now. They should have invited her earlier.”
“Isn’t Miss Simpson still here?” asked her father.
Anna replied that she was, and then turning to ’Lena, Mr. Livingstone asked if “she wanted to go very much.”
The tears which shone in her eyes were a sufficient answer, and when at supper that night, inquiry was made for Mr. Livingstone, it was said that he had gone to Frankfort.
“To Frankfort!” repeated his wife. “What has he gone there for?”
No one knew until late in the evening, when he returned home, bringing with him ’Lena’s dress, which Anna pronounced “the sweetest thing she ever saw,” at the same time running with it to her cousin. There was company in the parlor, which for a time kept down the gathering storm in Mrs. Livingstone’s face, but the moment they were gone, and she was alone with her husband in their room, it burst forth, and in angry tones she demanded “what he meant by spending her money in that way, and without her consent?”
Before making any reply, Mr. Livingstone stepped to her work-box, and opening the little drawer, held to view the missing note. Then turning to his wife, whose face was very pale, he said, “This morning I made a discovery which exonerates Nero from all blame. I understand it fully, and while I knew you were capable of almost anything, I must say I did not think you would be guilty of quite so mean an act. Stay,” he continued, as he saw her about to speak, “you are my wife, and as ’Lena is at last invited, your secret is safe, but remember, it must not be repeated. You understand me, do you?”
Mrs. Livingstone was struck dumb with mortification and astonishment—the first, that she was detected, and the last, that her husband dare assume such language toward her. But he had her in his power—she knew that—and for a time it rendered her very docile, causing her to consult with Miss Simpson concerning the fitting of ’Lena’s dress, herself standing by when it was done, and suggesting one or two improvements, until ’Lena, perfectly bewildered, wondered what had come over her aunt, that she should be so unusually kind. Carrie, too, learning from her mother how matters stood, thought proper to change her manner, and while in her heart she hoped something would occur to keep ’Lena at home, she loudly expressed her pleasure that she was going, offering to lend her several little ornaments, and doing many things which puzzled ’Lena, who readily saw that she was feigning what she did not feel.
Meanwhile, grandma, learning that ’Lena was invited, declared her intention of going. “I shouldn’t of gin up in the first on’t,” said she, “only I wanted to show ’em proper resentment; but now it’s different, and I’ll go, anyway—’Tilda may say what she’s a mind to.”