Guy's child.
In the evening, especially on Sunday, Amabel would sometimes talk to him as she had never yet been able to do, about her last summer's journey, and her stay at Recoara, and his way of listening and answering had in it something that gave her great pleasure; while, on his side, he deemed each fresh word of Guy's a sort of treasure for which to be grateful to her. The brother and sister were a great help and happiness to each other; Amabel found herself restored to Charles, as Guy had liked to think of her, and Charles felt as if the old childish fancies were fulfilled, in which he and Amy were always to keep house together. He was not in the least dull; and though his good-natured visitors in the morning were welcome, and received with plenty of his gay lively talk, he did not by any means stand in need of the compassion they felt for him, and could have done very well without them; while the evenings alone with Amy had in them something so pleasant that they were almost better than those when Mr. Ross and Mary came to tea. He wrote word to his mother that she might be quite at ease about them, and he thought Amy would get through the anniversaries of September better while the house was quiet, so that she need not think of trying to hurry home.
He was glad to have done so, for the letters, which scarcely missed a day in being written by his mother and Charlotte, seemed to show that their stay was likely to be long. Lady Mabel was more broken than they had expected, and claimed a long visit, as she was sure it would be their last, while the Kilcoran party had taken possession of Laura and Charlotte, as if they never meant to let them go. Charlotte wrote her brother very full and very droll accounts of the Iricisms around her which she enjoyed thoroughly, and Charles, declaring he never expected to see little Charlotte come out in the character of the facetious correspondent, used to send Mary Ross into fits of laughing by what he read to her. Mr. Fielder, the tutor, wrote Charlotte, was very nearly equal to Eveleen's description of him, but very particularly agreeable, in fact, the only man who had any conversation, whom she had seen since she had been at Kilcoran.
'Imagine,' said Charles, 'the impertinent little puss setting up for intellectual conversation, forsooth!'
'That's what comes of living with good company,' said Mary.
The brother and sister used sometimes to drive to Broadstone to fetch their letters by the second post.
'Charlotte, of course,' said Charles, as he opened one. 'My Lady Morville, what's yours?'
'Only Mr. Markham,' said Amabel, 'about the winding up of our business together, I suppose. What does Charlotte say?'
'Charlotte is in a fit of impudence, for which she deserves chastisement,' said Charles, unable to help laughing, as he read,--
'Our last event was a call from the fidus Achates, who, it seems, can no longer wander up and down the Mediterranean without his pius Aeneas, and so has left the army, and got a diplomatic appointment somewhere in Germany. Lord Kilcoran has asked him to come and stay here, and Mabel and I are quite sure he comes for a purpose. Of course he has chosen this time, in order that he may be able to have his companion before his eyes, as a model for courtship, and I wish I had you to help me look on whenever Philip comes, as that laugh I must enjoy alone with Bustle. However, when Philip will come we cannot think, for we have heard nothing of him this age, not even Laura, and she is beginning to look very anxious about him. Do tell us if you know anything about him. The last letter was when parliament was prorogued, and he was going to Redclyffe, at least three weeks ago.'
'I wonder if Mr. Markham mentions him,' said Amabel, hastily unfolding her letter, which was, as she expected, about the executors' business, but glancing on to the end, she exclaimed,--
'Ah! here it is. Listen, Charlie. 'Mr. Morville has been here for the last few weeks, and is, I fear, very unwell. He has been entirely confined to the house, almost ever since his arrival, by violent headache, which has completely disabled him from attending to business; but he will not call in any advice. I make a point of going to see him every day, though I believe my presence is anything but acceptable, as in his present state of health and spirits, I cannot think it right that he should be left to servants.' Poor fellow! Redclyffe has been too much for him.'
'Over-worked, I suppose,' said Charles. 'I thought he was coming it pretty strong these last few weeks.'
'Not even writing to Laura! How very bad he must be! I will write at once to ask Mr. Markham for more particulars.'
She did so, and on the third day they drove again to fetch the answer. It was a much worse account. Mr. Morville was, said Markham, suffering dreadfully from headache, and lay on the sofa all day, almost unable to speak or move, but resolved against having medical advice, though his own treatment of himself did not at all succeed in relieving him. There was extreme depression of spirits, and an unwillingness to see any one. He had positively refused to admit either Lord Thorndale or Mr. Ashford, and would hardly bear to see Markham himself, who, indeed, only forced his presence on him from thinking it unfit to leave him entirely to the servants, and would be much relieved if some of Mr. Morville's friends were present to free him from the responsibility.
'Hem!' said Charles. 'I can't say it sounds comfortable.'
'It is just as I feared!' said Amy. 'Great excitability of brain and nerve, Dr. Mayerne said. All the danger of a brain fever again! Poor Laura! What is to be done?'
Charles was silent.
'It is for want of some one to talk to him,' said Amabel. 'I know how he broods over his sad recollections, and Redclyffe must make it so much worse. If mamma and Laura were but at home to go to him, it might save him, and it would be fearful for him to have another illness, reduced as he is. How I wish he was here!'
'He cannot come, I suppose,' said Charles, 'or he would be in Ireland.'
'Yes. How well Guy knew when he said it would be worse for him than for me! How I wish I could do something now to make up for running away from him in Italy. If I was but at Redclyffe!'
'Do you really wish it?' said Charles, surprised.
'Yes, if I could do him any good.'
'Would you go there?'
'If I had but papa or mamma to go with me.'
'Do you think I should do as well?'
'Charlie!'
'If you think there would be any use in it, and choose to take the trouble of lugging me about the country, I don't see why you should not.'
'Oh! Charlie, how very, kind! How thankful poor Laura will be to you! I do believe it will save him!' cried Amabel, eagerly.
'But, Amy,'--he paused--'shall you like to see Redclyffe?'
'Oh! that is no matter,' said she, quickly. 'I had rather see after Philip than anything. I told you how he was made my charge, you know. And Laura! Only will it not be too tiring for you?'
'I can't see how it should hurt me. But I forget, what is to be done about your daughter?'
'I don't know what harm it could do her,' said Amy, considering. 'Mrs. Gresham brought a baby of only three months old from Scotland the other day, and she is six. It surely cannot hurt her, but we will ask Dr. Mayerne.'
'Mamma will never forgive us if we don't take the doctor into our councils.'
'Arnaud can manage for us. We would sleep in London, and go on by an early train, and we can take our--I mean my--carriage, for the journey after the railroad. It would not be too much for you. How soon could we go?'
'The sooner the better,' said Charles. 'If we are to do him any good, it must be speedily, or it will be a case of shutting the stable-door. Why not to-morrow?'
The project was thoroughly discussed that evening, but still with the feeling as if it could not be real, and when they parted at night they said,--'We will see how the scheme looks in the morning.'
Charles was still wondering whether it was a dream, when the first thing he heard in the court below his window was--
'Here, William, here's a note from my lady for you to take to Dr. Mayerne.'
'They be none of them ill?' answered William's voice.
'0 no; my lady has been up this hour, and Mr. Charles has rung his bell. Stop, William, my lady said you were to call at Harris's and bring home a 'Bradshaw'.'
Reality, indeed, thought Charles, marvelling at his sister, and his elastic spirits throwing him into the project with a sort of enjoyment, partaking of the pleasure of being of use, the spirit of enterprise, and the 'fun' of starting independently on an expedition unknown to all the family.
He met Amabel with a smile that showed both were determined. He undertook to announce the plan to his
