him, and he placed it tentatively in Nell’s hands. “This may be of no interest to you,” he disclaimed, “but many of the ladies who frequent the lending library have assured me it is not the usual farrago of nonsense. I will take it back if you should disapprove of such reading, of course.”
“ Mansfield Park , by A Lady,” Nell read. “Do you know the story, Mr. Bentley?”
“I have not myself read it as yet, but I understand that it is about a modest young woman coming to live with her more prosperous, and perhaps less upright, relations.”
Emily, who had not spoken until now, giggled. “How splendid! If you have no interest in reading it, Nell, I shall certainly take it home with me!”
“I think I should read at least the first chapter or two to see for myself whether or not I like it,” Nell said. “Not many novels have come in my way.”
“Poor child!” Emily consoled her. “Those novels Mr. Bentley apostrophizes as a ‘farrago of nonsense’ have whiled away many a dull hour for me.”
Nell thought Mr. Bentley’s smile was just a shade complaisant. “Oh, yes, many of the ladies who patronize the library are quite taken with The Mysteries of Udolpho and the like. These are highly adventurous and exciting stories, no doubt, but haven’t a wisp of credulity to them. While Mansfield Park I believe is quite a different story. My understanding is that the author satirizes certain social pretentions while exhibiting the virtue of her heroine.”
“Oh, well, then, I probably shouldn’t care for it,” Emily protested, with a moue of disappointment.
Nell laughed at her new friend’s outrageous observation, but Mr. Bentley seemed to take her seriously. “Oh, I feel certain you would, Mrs. Holmsly!” he said, his brow contracting. “I am told the writing is especially fine.”
“No doubt, no doubt,” Emily agreed. She gave a little tug to the paisley shawl she wore. “I shall await Miss Armstrong’s opinion of the book before I consider reading it.”
Mr. Bentley turned to his hostess. “Will you try it then, ma’am? I brought it especially for you, as I had no reason to believe your aunt would be interested in a contemporary novel.”
“Certainly, Mr. Bentley. You were kind to think of us, and especially generous to come here with the books. I would have come to the library very soon, I assure you!”
“Well, it had been several days since you were there, and, as you can see, I had accumulated quite a stack of books for you to consider.” He seemed to hesitate before he spoke again, more diffidently. “I thought perhaps I could call again in a few days, to see if you wished me to take back any of the volumes.”
“How kind of you, but, you know, I am perfectly capable of bringing the books to the library myself.” Nell smiled to take any sting from this rejoinder. “I mustn’t expect such service in future.”
Once again Emily thrust herself into the conversation, this time to say, “Yes, my dear Nell, but at the library it is always so busy, and the patrons expect such a hushed atmosphere. You and Mr. Bentley would not be able to discuss what you had read. And I think Mr. Bentley would be most interested in your opinion of some of these books, especially the novel.”
“Indeed I should!” Mr. Bentley agreed, bestowing a grateful smile on Mrs. Holmsly. “But of course I would not come if you should not like it, Miss Armstrong!”
“It is a great deal too good of you,” Nell temporized. “But no doubt my aunt would like the opportunity to thank you in person for your kindness to us both.”
Mr. Bentley looked as though this prospect would not provide him with much of a treat, but he stoutly proclaimed that he would come again. Then he rose to take his departure, making a polite bow to Mrs. Holmsly and clasping Nell’s hand briefly but firmly. When he had left the room, Emily shook her head and said, “That is no way to encourage a suitor, Nell—threatening him
“ Mansfield Park , by A Lady,” Nell read. “Do you know the story, Mr. Bentley?”
“I have not myself read it as yet, but I understand that it is about a modest young woman coming to live with her more prosperous, and perhaps less upright, relations.”
Emily, who had not spoken until now, giggled. “How splendid! If you have no interest in reading it, Nell, I shall certainly take it home with me!”
“I think I should read at least the first chapter or two to see for myself whether or not I like it,” Nell said. “Not many novels have come in my way.”
“Poor child!” Emily consoled her. “Those novels Mr. Bentley apostrophizes as a ‘farrago of nonsense’ have whiled away many a dull hour for me.”
Nell thought Mr. Bentley’s smile was just a shade complaisant. “Oh, yes, many of the ladies who patronize the library are quite taken with The Mysteries of Udolpho and the like. These are highly adventurous and exciting stories, no doubt, but haven’t a wisp of credulity to them. While Mansfield Park I believe is quite a different story. My understanding is that the author satirizes certain social pretentions while exhibiting the virtue of her heroine.”
“Oh, well, then, I probably shouldn’t care for it,” Emily protested, with a moue of disappointment.
Nell laughed at her new friend’s outrageous observation, but Mr. Bentley seemed to take her seriously. “Oh, I feel certain you would, Mrs. Holmsly!” he said, his brow contracting. “I am told the writing is especially fine.”
“No doubt, no doubt,” Emily agreed. She gave a little tug to the paisley shawl she wore. “I shall await Miss Armstrong’s opinion of the book before I consider reading it.”
Mr. Bentley turned to his hostess. “Will you try it then, ma’am? I brought it especially for you, as I had no reason to believe your aunt would be interested in a contemporary novel.”
“Certainly, Mr. Bentley. You were kind to think of us, and especially generous to come here with the books. I would have come to the library very soon, I assure you!”
“Well, it had been several days since you were there, and, as you can see, I had accumulated quite a stack of books for you to consider.” He seemed to hesitate before he spoke again, more diffidently. “I thought perhaps I could call again in a few days, to see if you wished me to take back any of the volumes.”
“How kind of you, but, you know, I am perfectly capable of bringing the books to the library myself.” Nell smiled to take any sting from this rejoinder. “I mustn’t expect such service in future.”
Once again Emily thrust herself into the conversation, this time to say, “Yes, my dear Nell, but at the library it is always so busy, and the patrons expect such a hushed atmosphere. You and Mr. Bentley would not be able to discuss what you had read. And I think Mr. Bentley would be most interested in your opinion of some of these books, especially the novel.”
“Indeed I should!” Mr. Bentley agreed, bestowing a grateful smile on Mrs. Holmsly. “But of course I would not come if you should not like it, Miss Armstrong!”
“It is a great deal too good of you,” Nell temporized. “But no doubt my aunt would like the opportunity to thank you in person for your kindness to us both.”
Mr. Bentley looked as though this prospect would not provide him with much of a treat, but he stoutly proclaimed that he would come again. Then he rose to take his departure, making a polite bow to Mrs. Holmsly and clasping Nell’s hand briefly but firmly. When he had left the room, Emily shook her head and said, “That is no way to encourage a suitor, Nell—threatening him
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