know that it was in saving her that she was so sadly burnt?'
'No: was it?'
'Yes; she snatched her out through the burning curtains. That was the way Theodora's hair was all burnt off, and her arms are so blistered!' continued Violet, controlling her trembling, and speaking as when she was persuading one of the children--'Poor Theodora! Will you not come and see her?'
'Where is she?'
'She is at the parsonage. They are ready to take us.'
'Oh, no! I cannot go. You go to her.'
'Pray, pray come with me. Theodora is so ill! It would do her so much good to see you; and we are afraid of her being anxious or distressed, lest she should have fever. Won't you come?'
A motion, as if she could not bear this, made Violet fear she must desist, and she paused for a short interval, then said, 'SHE was very fond of Theodora.'
'Oh! Yes, yes--'
'She would not like her to be left so long.'
'I thought you were taking care of her.'
'Oh, yes! but I cannot be the same as you would. One always wants one's mother so much in illness.'
'She was always a mother to me!' The tears came at last, and she wept unrestrainedly; while Violet hung over her with soft caressing words of sympathy that cannot be detailed, till the first grief had had its course, and she again tried the experiment of repeating Theodora's name, and saying how much she was suffering.
Lady Martindale did not reply, but suffered Violet to put on her cloak, and gradually lead her from the room, saying at each pause something of 'poor Theodora.'
The deed was done; it might be by importunity, but it was worth achieving, even at the risk of being vexatious. Lord Martindale could hardly believe his eyes when he saw his wife on her way to the carriage, and Theodora was equally astonished when she appeared at her bedside.
It was a new thing to see one, hitherto healthy and independent, so completely prostrated; and no more was needed to awaken the natural affection so long stifled or thrust aside. Lady Martindale was greatly shocked, and, perhaps magnifying her daughter's illness, had no room for any other thought. She wished to do everything for her herself--would hardly admit Violet's assistance--and took every care, with skilfulness that was marvellous in one trained to ineffectiveness.
To Theodora her attendance was a new and exquisite repose. It was the first taste of her mother's love, and made her content to be helpless; as there she lay, murmuring thanks, and submitting to be petted with a grateful face of childlike peace, resting in her mother's affection, and made happy by the depth of warm feeling in her father's words.
'It is a good speculation to be ill,' said she, with a smile of strong feeling when they had bidden her good night, and left her to Violet, who was to sleep on a mattress on the floor.
CHAPTER 4
Will you walk into my parlour?' said a spider to a fly. MARY HOWITT
And where was Arthur?
Spending the day with his sporting friends, much to his own satisfaction, till in the evening, greatly against his will, he was taken out to dine with an old Mr. Randall, of Gothlands, the master of the hounds.
His nieces, the Misses Marstone, were the ladies of the house--well- dressed people, a little 'passees', but apparently not having found it out. Arthur watched the arrivals hoping that the order of precedence might not consign him to the flow of talk, of which he had already had quite a sufficiency, when, to his surprise, two ladies, evidently at home, entered together.
One--thin, sallow, spectacled--was, as he knew, an inhabitant; but the other--small, slight, and retiring, and, in spite of clinging unfresh muslin and shrinking figure, with the unmistakable air of high breeding, was a most unexpected sight. At least, thought he, here was one lady who would not bore him, and making his way to her, he inquired for Lady Elizabeth. Emma, on the other hand, asked after Violet; and it was curious that both questions were put and answered with constraint, as if each was conscious of being something like a truant.
Another surprise. 'Mr. Gardner.' In walked Mark himself, and, after shaking hands with the elder Miss Marstone, came towards Emma and her friend, and was received with cordial familiarity. He entered into conversation with Arthur, drawing a little further from Miss Brandon at each step, till having brought him close to old Mr. Randall, and placed him under the infliction of a long prose about the hounds, he retreated, and was soon again in conversation with the two friends, Emma's face raised and lighted up with eagerness.
Colonel Martindale had no escape from the head of the table and the eldest of the Misses Marstone. Resigning himself to his fate, he made talk; and, though now broader, redder, and somewhat coarser in feature and complexion than he had been a few years ago, he looked so gay and unencumbered, that his neighbour speculated as to whether he could be the eldest son, and resolved to discover what her sister, Sarah Theresa, knew of him.
'It is so pleasant when friends meet unexpectedly,' said she. 'I did not know you were acquainted with either of our guests.'
'Miss Brandon is a near neighbour of my father, and a great friend of Mrs. Martindale.'
Death to any incipient scheme of Miss Marstone; but she smiled on, and remarked, 'A very amiable girl, and a beautiful place, is it not, Rickworth?'
'Very pretty, a fine property,' said Arthur, talking as if in his sleep, for he had caught Mark Gardner's voice saying something about an oratory.
'My sister is often staying there,' proceeded the lady. 'You know Miss Brandon's scheme of restoring the Priory?'
'I did not know that was anything more than talk.'
'I used to think so,' said Miss Marstone; 'but both she and my sister Sarah treat it quite seriously, and Mr. Gardner is their prime counsellor.'
Arthur started, and with difficulty refrained from laughing.
'Ah! I believe he has been a little wild, but that is all over now. He has taken quite a different turn now, and given up everything of that sort--throws himself into all their views.'
'Indeed!' said Arthur, who knew to his cost that if the reform had taken place at all, it must have been of extremely recent date.
'O, yes, I assure you. He is staying with the curate, Mr. Silworth.'
'Ha! that is an old name at school.'
'Yes; he was an old schoolfellow--a very good man, to whose persuasions everything is owing.'
She pointed him out, and the first glance was a revelation to Arthur, who recognized him as the boy who, at school, had been the most easily taken in. He soon understood the state of affairs. Mark, clever, gentlemanly in appearance, and apt at catching the tone of the society around him, was making a bold stroke--had persuaded his kind-hearted, simple friend to believe him a sincere penitent, and to introduce him as such to the ladies at Gothlands, from whom he caught the talk most pleasing to them. At present it was all ecclesiastical aesthetics, and discontent with the existing system, especially as regarded penitence; by and by, when his hold should be secure, he would persuade the heiress that she had been the prime instrument in his conversion, and that she had gained his heart.
A bit of rhapsody from Miss Sarah Theresa, and poor Emma's embellished and animated countenance, were sufficient indications that they were smoothly gliding into the snare; and accustomed as Arthur was to see Mark Gardner in a very different aspect, he was astonished at his perfect performance of his part--the humility and deference befitting the sense of his errors, and conversation so entirely at home in all their peculiar language and predilections, that Arthur was obliged to feel for the betting-book in his own pocket to convince himself that he was still deeply involved with this most admirable and devoted of penitents. He could not help, as he took leave, giving a knowing look, conveying how easily he could spoil his game.
However, Arthur was in reality much annoyed. Of late years his easy temper had well-nigh surrendered itself to the ascendency of Mark Gardner; and though dissatisfied, remorseful, and anxious, he had allowed himself to be led farther and farther into extravagance. The sight of his home excited regrets, therefore he shunned it; and though
