“I felt so well, papa, and liked it so much,
I forgot.”
St. Clare carried her in his arms into the parlor,
and laid her on the sofa.
“Henrique, you must be careful of Eva,”
said he; “you mustn’t ride fast with her.”
“I’ll take her under my care,” said
Henrique, seating himself by the sofa, and taking
Eva’s hand.
Eva soon found herself much better. Her father
and uncle resumed their game, and the children were
left together.
“Do you know, Eva, I’m sorry papa is only
going to stay two days here, and then I shan’t
see you again for ever so long! If I stay with
you, I’d try to be good, and not be cross to
Dodo, and so on. I don’t mean to treat
Dodo ill; but, you know, I’ve got such a quick
temper. I’m not really bad to him, though.
I give him a picayune, now and then; and you see he
dresses well. I think, on the whole, Dodo ’s
pretty well off.”
“Would you think you were well off, if there
were not one creature in the world near you to love
you?”
“I?—Well, of course not.”
“And you have taken Dodo away from all the friends
he ever had, and now he has not a creature to love
him;—nobody can be good that way.”
“Well, I can’t help it, as I know of.
I can’t get his mother and I can’t love
him myself, nor anybody else, as I know of.”
“Why can’t you?” said Eva.
“Love Dodo! Why, Eva, you wouldn’t
have me! I may like him well enough; but
you don’t love your servants.”
“I do, indeed.”
“How odd!”
“Don’t the Bible say we must love everybody?”
“O, the Bible! To be sure, it says a great
many such things; but, then, nobody ever thinks of
doing them,—you know, Eva, nobody does.”
Eva did not speak; her eyes were fixed and thoughtful
for a few moments.
“At any rate,” she said, “dear Cousin,
do love poor Dodo, and be kind to him, for my sake!”
“I could love anything, for your sake, dear
Cousin; for I really think you are the loveliest creature
that I ever saw!” And Henrique spoke with an
earnestness that flushed his handsome face. Eva
received it with perfect simplicity, without even
a change of feature; merely saying, “I’m
glad you feel so, dear Henrique! I hope you will
remember.”
The dinner-bell put an end to the interview.
Foreshadowings
Two days after this, Alfred St. Clare and Augustine
parted; and Eva, who had been stimulated, by the society
of her young cousin, to exertions beyond her strength,
began to fail rapidly. St. Clare was at last
willing to call in medical advice,—a thing
from which he had always shrunk, because it was the
admission of an unwelcome truth.
But, for a day or two, Eva was so unwell as to be
confined to the house; and the doctor was called.
