"I do not know. He is going abroad as soon as he has rearranged his affairs. He said he would call on you in a few days."
"He sent us some lovely flowers," said Isabel.
"He is a most wasteful man."
"He sent mother and me pansies in a lovely basket lined with moss; they were to say for him he would 'remember' us. And he sent Dora the same basket, filled with white hyacinths. Oh, how sweet they were!"
"And what did they say?"
"I looked for their meaning, and found it was 'unobtrusive loveliness.' You see Dora rarely came into the parlor, when he called."
"That may be so, but he had no business to notice her absence. 'Unobtrusive' indeed, and 'loveliness.' Some men don't know when they go too far."
"He meant all in kindness," said Mrs. Campbell, "and I hope he will call."
Sir Thomas kept his promise. Three days after Christina had so mercilessly jilted him, he called on her mother and sister. But by this time he had taken a still more exalted view of his false love's conduct. He told Mrs. Campbell, that it was not sympathy, but congratulations, that were due her. Was she not the proud mother of a noble daughter, whom neither rank nor wealth could lure from the paths of truth and honor? Of a daughter who held love as beyond price, and who would not wrong either his or her own heart. He waxed eloquent on this subject, and was tearful over the lost treasure of her noble daughter's affection. And Mrs. Campbell smiled grimly, and wondered "if he really thought she was silly enough to believe he believed in any such balderdash."
Isabel certainly believed in him with all her heart, and was never weary of his chivalrous, exalted platitudes; and like all men in love trouble, Sir Thomas was never weary of talking of his wounded heart, and lost bride. So Isabel quickly became his favorite confidant. She listened patiently and with evident interest; she helped him to praise Christina, and when he got to wiping his eyes, Isabel was ready to weep with him.