never attempted, dared not even guess; and the letter from Lady Teviot's maid to Lady Eskdale's maid, written from St. Mary's, where the Teviots were honeymooning, should find a place in any collection of gems of the gentle art, and will stand for all time among the masterpieces of below-stairs humour.
It is with the Douglas family that Miss Eden brings back most nearly the atmosphere of Pride and Prejudice. Indeed, in the general setting of the home life of Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, a curious literary parallel is produced.
The spite and vulgarity of Mrs. Douglas irresistibly brings to mind Mrs. Bennet, and the husbands, small squires, interested in their turnips, less vulgar than their wives, lazy-minded, tolerant, disliking spiteful criticism of their richer neighbours who gave such good dinners, fond of their daughters, bored with their wives, are parallels so close as to leave a doubt in the mind of anyone intimately familiar with both novels, as to which gentleman was squire of Longbourn and which of Thornbank.
It is thus that Miss Eden sketches with three sure strokes of her pencil the character of Mrs. Douglas:
"Now, my dear Mr. Douglas, don't go off on those tiresome foreign affairs. . . . You need not pretend to understand national feuds, if you have not found out what is passing under your eyes; but I cannot believe it, you must see what an unhappy couple these poor Teviots are."
". . . I cannot think all this can be so, Anne, it is too bad to be true."
"Nothing is too bad to be true, Mr. Douglas, and nothing is true that is not bad. . . ."
The book indeed teems with neat little thumb-nails. All the minor characters are clever miniatures, with the exception only of Lady Portmore, where Miss Eden departed from the admirable standard she set herself and laid on the colours with a trowel.
Lady Eskdale is triumphantly convincing as she moves through life, sheltered from all but the mildest winds.
