If ever Uncle Geoffrey was made positively angry, he was so now, though if he had not thought it good that Henrietta should be roused, he would have repressed even such demonstrations as he made.  “Henrietta, this is too bad!  Has she been weakly yielding?—­has she been shutting herself up in her room, and keeping aloof from those who most needed her, lest she should pain her own feelings?  Have not you rather been perplexing and distressing, and harassing her with your wilful selfishness, refusing to do the least thing to assist her in the care of your own brother, after she has been wearing herself out in watching over your mother?  And now, when her strength and spirits are exhausted by the exertions she has made for you and yours, and I have been obliged to insist on her resting, you fancy her example an excuse for you!  Is this the way your mother would have acted?  I see arguing with you does you no good:  I have no more to say.”

He got up, opened the door, and went out:  Henrietta, dismayed at the accusation but too well founded on her words, had but one thought, that she should not deem her regardless of his kindness.  “Uncle Geoffrey!” she cried, “O, uncle—­” but he was gone; and forgetting everything else, she flew after him down the stairs, and before she recollected anything else, she found herself standing in the hall, saying, “O uncle, do not think I meant that!”

At that moment her grandpapa came out of the drawing-room.  Henrietta!” said he, “I am glad to see you downstairs.”

Henrietta hastily returned his kiss, and looked somewhat confused; then laying her hand entreatingly on her uncle’s arm, said, “Only say you are not angry with me.”

“No, no, Henrietta, not if you will act like a rational person,” said he with something of a smile, which she could not help returning in her surprise at finding herself downstairs after all.

“And you do not imagine me ungrateful?”

“Not when you are in your right senses.”

“Ungrateful!” exclaimed Mr. Langford.  “What is he accusing you of, Henrietta?  What is the meaning of all this?”

“Nothing,” said Uncle Geoffrey, “but that Henrietta and I have both been somewhat angry with each other; but we have made it up now, have we not, Henrietta?”

It was wonderful how much good the very air of the hall was doing Henrietta, and how fast it was restoring her energy and power of turning her mind to other things.  She answered a few remarks of grandpapa’s with very tolerable cheerfulness, and even when the hall door opened and admitted Uncle and Aunt Roger, she did not run away, but stayed to receive their greetings before turning to ascend the stairs.

“You are not going to shut yourself up in your own room again?” said grandpapa.

“No, I was only going to Fred,” said she, growing as desirous of seeing him as she had before been averse to it.

“Suppose,” said Uncle Geoffrey, “that you were to take a turn or two round the garden first.  There is Queen Bee, she will go out with you, and you will bring Fred in a fresher face.”