"Mrs. Maxwell Dorset said that he had made her acquaintance at Florence, did she not?" said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, anxious to lead her daughter to talk of this, as of an indifferent subject.
"Yes," she said, "he was a great pet of hers. He gave her that bracelet of purple enamel with the diamond head. I should be very sorry to be ungrateful mamma, but I thought--"
"What, my dearest?"
"I thought a woman should be very old, to talk as she used to do about Mr. Haveloc and Mr. Leslie. I saw a great deal of her you know, when you were out arranging our journey home with Johannot."
"I should be sorry to see you imitate that, or any other freedom of manner," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "because I consider it very ungraceful; but I am persuaded that with Mrs. Maxwell Dorset, it was only manner.
Mr. Leslie you know was a clergyman, and Mrs. Maxwell says she never likes to be without the intimate acquaintance of a clergyman. She considers it so advantageous both for herself; and for her children. Mr.
Leslie came twice a week to explain the bible to her girls."
This was true enough; but Aveline remembered that Mrs. Maxwell Dorset"s remarks about Mr. Leslie, who was really a most excellent and earnest young man in the discharge of his duty, had been confined to repeated eulogiums upon his teeth, and his hands, and had never touched upon the doctrines which he wished to inculcate.
She said, however, that Mrs. Maxwell Dorset had been most kind to them when they most needed it; and that she should be very sorry to form a harsh judgment of her foibles. And then having talked too long upon subjects of an exciting nature, she brought on a severe fit of coughing, which Mrs. Fitzpatrick attributed to her having bent so much over her drawing.
"It is very odd we cannot get rid of that cough of yours, Aveline," she said. "Here comes Mr. Lindsay, we must consult with him about it."
Aveline was flushed with coughing, and her eyes sparkled with pleasure at the sight of her great favourite, Mr. Lindsay; so that when he dismounted, and came in at the open window, he could hardly be expected to detect through the eagerness of her warm welcome, any strong trace of indisposition.
"Nothing the matter with you, I see!" were his first words to her.
"Indeed, there is, Mr. Lindsay," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick. "There is still something left for you to do with her. She cannot be quite right with that troublesome cough." And Mrs. Fitzpatrick fixed her black eyes upon Mr. Lindsay"s immoveable countenance, with a scrutiny that it was not easy to avoid.
"I wish you would not feel my pulse, doctor," said Aveline, using a term she often playfully applied to Mr. Lindsay. "It always makes me faint."
"There then," said he removing his fingers, "you have not left any of your fancies behind you. I wish you had, or your cough!"
"You despise foreigners almost as much as Mrs. Grant," said Aveline laughing; "but you cannot deny that I have gained a great deal by my absence."
"Gained. Yes; an inch or more. Were you not tall enough before you went?" said Mr. Lindsay, surveying her from head to foot.
"You are as tiresome as ever," said Aveline. "I have gained strength, spirits, and appet.i.te!"
"What did you eat for breakfast?" asked Mr. Lindsay suddenly.
"Oh! breakfast. That is never a good meal with me. I could eat half a chicken for dinner," said Aveline, still laughing.
"Well, I suppose you want me to send you some medicine," said Mr.
Lindsay, taking up his hat; "people are never contented without it, whether they need it or not."
"But do I not need it?" asked Aveline.
"No."
"What shall I take for my cough then?"
"Cherries, shrimps, tamarinds, whatever you like."
"And why are you running away?"
"Because I am going to see a woman who really wants me and my physic."
"Anybody I know?"
"A Mrs. Brand. I cannot tell how far your circle of acquaintance may extend."
"To be sure I know her. Brand"s wife mamma! She is always sickly. Do you think her worse?"
"Why, yes--rather."
"And will she get well?"
"Perhaps. I am doubtful about it."
"Oh, dear! with all those poor little children."
"She would be much more likely to get well without the poor little children."
"And what could we send her that would be of use?"
"Chicken broth, port wine, brandy, if she could keep it from her husband."
"Oh, yes! he is a very good man. He never drinks."
"Excellent. Good bye to you," and the doctor stepped out upon the terrace. Mrs. Fitzpatrick followed him.
"What do you think of her, Mr. Lindsay?" she asked.
"I hardly know yet. I am not quite satisfied with her pulse; but I must see her when she has recovered the fatigue of her journey."
"And have you no advice to give me in the meantime?"
"Care--care--care. You know my axiom," said the doctor as he mounted his horse. "A better one I warrant, than that of Demosthenes."
"But you are really oracular this morning."
"Keep her mind quiet," said Mr. Lindsay gathering up the bridle, "and if she cries for the moon, let her have it."
And having given utterance to this easy and infallible receipt, galloped off. Yes, it was very pleasant to be told that she must keep her daughter"s mind quiet, when she had just learned that Aveline was engaged in one long hopeless struggle against an attachment that had never been declared, or sought, or requited.
It had often crossed her mind at Sorrento, that Mr. Haveloc must admire her daughter; but she had never alluded to the subject, even in jest; because hers was a mind to treat all grave matters gravely; and because she did not think it very conducive to the delicacy of a young girl to jest with her upon the impression she might have made upon a man, particularly while the fact was yet uncertain. And she believed that Aveline never gave him a thought; nor did she herself, farther than she need, take any trouble to keep them out of each other"s way, because there would be no reason to object to it, if they should take a fancy to each other.
How deeply she repented of her blindness; how bitterly she recalled the frequent morning walks, the sketching, the sailing parties; from which, indeed, she could hardly have excluded Mr. Haveloc, all things considered; but from which she might have contrived to omit Aveline. She gazed down the rough pathway from which Mr. Lindsay had long vanished, and again repeated to herself, "Keep her mind quiet!"
CHAPTER IV.