Mrs. Norris was by no means to be compared in happiness
to her sister. Not that _she_ was incommoded by many
fears of Sir Thomas's disapprobation when the present
state of his house should be known, for her judgment
had been so blinded that, except by the instinctive
caution with which she had whisked away Mr. Rushworth's
pink satin cloak as her brother-in-law entered,
she could hardly be said to shew any sign of alarm;
but she was vexed by the _manner_ of his return.
It had left her nothing to do. Instead of being sent
for out of the room, and seeing him first, and having
to spread the happy news through the house, Sir Thomas,
with a very reasonable dependence, perhaps, on the nerves
of his wife and children, had sought no confidant but
the butler, and had been following him almost instantaneously
into the drawing-room. Mrs. Norris felt herself defrauded
of an office on which she had always depended, whether his
arrival or his death were to be the thing unfolded;
and was now trying to be in a bustle without having
anything to bustle about, and labouring to be important
where nothing was wanted but tranquillity and silence.
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