He remembered the night of the ball at Shirley, and the memory rankled.  It did not occur to him that the matter having remained a secret might have been the natural result of an unfortunate combination of circumstances, and in no sort the consequence of calculation or dishonor on Thorne’s part.  Neither did it occur to him, large-minded man though he was, to try to put himself in Thorne’s place and so gain a larger insight into the affair, and the possibility of arriving at a fairer judgment.  Berkeley’s interest in the matter was too personal to admit of dispassionate analysis, or any impulse toward mercy, or even justice.  His anger burned hotly against Thorne, and when the thought of him rose in his mind it was accompanied by other thoughts which it is best not to put into words.

During Mrs. Mason’s illness, little Blanche was unremitting in her attentions, coming over daily with delicacies of her own concoction, and striving to help her friends with a sweet, unobtrusive kindness which won hearty response from both ladies, and caused them to view Berkeley’s increasing attentions to the little maid with pleasure.  They even aided the small idyl by every lawful means, having the girl with them as often as they could and praising her judiciously.

With her winsome, childish ways and impulsiveness, Blanche formed a marked contrast to grave, reserved Berkeley Mason, and was perhaps better suited to him on that account.  When their engagement was announced, there was no lack of congratulation and satisfaction in both families.  The general, as he gave his hearty approbation to her choice, pinched her ears and asked what had become of her objections to Virginia; and Percival tormented her unceasingly, twitting her with her former wails of lamentation.  Blanche did not care.  She took their teasing in good part, and retorted with merry words and smiles and blushes.  She had made her journey to the unknown, and returned with treasure.

Mrs. Smith, in her chamber, smiled softly, and thought on muslin and lace and wedding favors.

CHAPTER XVII.

The weeks rolled by, and gradually Mrs. Mason grew convalescent.  She was still confined to her room, but the worst of the pain was over, and she could lie on the sofa by the fireside and have Berkeley read aloud to her in the evenings.  Blanche, if she happened to be there, would sit on a low chair beside the sofa, busy with some delicate bit of fancy work, and later in the evening Berke would take her home.  Sometimes Pocahontas would bring her work and listen, or pretend to listen, with the rest, but oftener she would go into the parlor and play dreamily to herself for hours.  She had taken up her music industriously and practiced hard in her spare moments.