“I do not see that,” said Rachel, feeling
the need of decision in order to reassure her mother;
“it is very sad and distressing in some ways,
but no one can look at Miss Williams without seeing
that his return has done her a great deal of good;
and whether they marry or not, one can only be full
of admiration and respect for them.”
“Yes, yes,” faltered Mrs. Curtis; “only
I must say I think it was due to us to have mentioned
it sooner.”
“Not at all, mother. Fanny knew it, and
it was nobody’s concern but hers. Pray
am I to have Owen’s ’Palaeontology’?”
“No, Colonel Keith bought that, and some more
of the solid books. My dear, he is going to
settle here; he tells me he has actually bought that
house he and his brother are in.”
“Bought it!”
“Yes; he says, any way, his object is to be
near Miss Williams. Well, I cannot think how
it is to end, so near the title as he is, and her
sister a governess, and then that dreadful business
about her brother, and the little girl upon her hands.
Dear me, I wish Fanny had any one else for a governess.”
“So do not I,” said Rachel. “I
have the greatest possible admiration for Ermine Williams,
and I do not know which I esteem most, her for her
brave, cheerful, unrepining unselfishness, or him for
his constancy and superiority to all those trumpery
considerations. I am glad to have the watching
of them. I honour them both.”
Yes, and Rachel honoured herself still more for being
able to speak all this freely and truly out of the
innermost depths of her candid heart.
THE GOWANBRAE BALL.
“Your
honour’s pardon,
I’d rather have my wounds to heal again,
Than hear say how I got them.”—Coriolanus.
“Yes, I go the week after next.”
“So soon? I thought you were to stay for
our ball.”
“Till this time next year! No, no, I can’t
quite do that, thank you.”
“This very winter.”
“Oh, no—no such thing! Why,
half the beauty and fashion of the neighbourhood is
not come into winter quarters yet. Besides, the
very essence of a military ball is that it should be
a parting—the brightest and the last.
Good morning.”
And Meg’s head, nothing loth, was turned away
from the wide view of the broad vale of the Avon,
with the Avoncester Cathedral towers in the midst,
and the moors rising beyond in purple distance.
The two young lieutenants could only wave their farewells,
as Bessie cantered merrily over the soft smooth turf
of the racecourse, in company with Lord Keith, the
Colonel, and Conrade.
“Do you not like dancing?” inquired Lord
Keith, when the canter was over, and they were splashing
through a lane with high hedges.
“I’m not so unnatural,” returned
Bessie, with a merry smile, “but it would never
do to let the Highlanders give one now. Alick
has been telling me that the expense would fall seriously
on a good many of them.”
