Chapter XXIX.
A Friend in Need Is a Friend Indeed

When the work of the bazaar was finished all the four Mackenzie ladies went home to Mrs Mackenzie’s house in Cavendish Square, very tired, eager for tea, and resolved that nothing more should be done that evening. There should be no dressing for dinner, no going out, nothing but idleness, tea, lamb chops, and gossip about the day’s work. Mr Mackenzie was down at the House, and there was no occasion for any domestic energy. And thus the evening was passed. How Mrs Chaucer Munro and the loud bevy fared among them, or how old Lady Ware and her daughters, or the poor, dear, bothered duchess or Mr Manfred Smith, or the kings and heroes who had appeared in paint and armour, cannot be told. I fear that the Mackenzie verdict about the bazaar in general was not favourable and that they agreed among themselves to abstain from such enterprises of charity in future. It concerns us now chiefly to know that our Griselda held up her head well throughout that evening, and made herself comfortable and at her ease among her cousins, although it was already known to her that the legal decision had gone against her in the great case of Ball v. Mackenzie. But had that decision been altogether in her favour the result would not have been so favourable to her spirits, as had been that little speech made by Mrs Mackenzie as to her having no right as yet to scold Sir John for his extravagance,—that little speech made in good humour, and apparently accepted in good humour even by him. But on that evening Mrs Mackenzie was not able to speak to Margaret about her prospects, or to lecture her on the expediency of regarding the nicenesses of her dress in Sir John’s presence, because of the two other cousins. The two other cousins, no doubt, knew all the story of the Lion and the Lamb, and talked to their sister-in-law, Clara, of their other cousin, Griselda, behind Griselda’s back; and were no doubt very anxious that Griselda should become a baronet’s wife; but among so large a party there was no opportunity for confidential advice.

On the next morning Mrs Mackenzie and Margaret were together, and then Mrs Mackenzie began:

“Margaret, my dear,” said she, “that bonnet I gave you has been worth its weight in gold.”

“It cost nearly as much,” said Margaret, “for it was very expensive and very light.”

“Or in bank-notes either, because it has shown him and me and everybody else that you needn’t be a dowdy unless you please. No man wishes to marry a dowdy, you know.”

“I suppose I was a dowdy when he asked me.”

“I wasn’t there, and didn’t know you then, and can’t say. But I do know that he liked the way you looked yesterday. Now, of course, he’ll be coming here before long.”

“I dare say he won’t come here again the whole summer.”