Eleanor was very much afraid that Charlotte would have darted out upon her, as the prebendary got out at his own door, but Bertie thoughtfully saved her from this, by causing the carriage to go round by her house. This also Dr Stanhope understood, and allowed to pass by without remark.
When she got home, she found Mary Bold in the drawing-room with the child in her lap. She rushed forward, and, throwing herself on her knees, kissed the little fellow till she almost frightened him.
'Oh, Mary, I am so glad you did not go. It was an odious party.'
Now the question of Mary's going had been one greatly mooted between them. Mrs Bold, when invited, had been the guest of the Grantlys, and Miss Thorne, who had chiefly known Eleanor at the hospital or at Plumstead rectory, had forgotten all about Mary Bold. Her sister-in-law had implored her to go under her wing, and had offered to write to Miss Thorne, or to call on her. But Miss Bold had declined. In fact, Mr Bold had not been very popular with such people as the Thornes, and his sister would not go among them unless she were specially asked to do so.
'Well then,' said Mary cheerfully, 'I have the less to regret.'
'You have nothing to regret; but oh! Mary, I have—so much—so much;'—and then she began kissing her boy, whom her caresses had aroused from his slumbers. When she raised her head, Mary saw that the tears were running down her cheeks.
'Good heavens, Eleanor, what is the matter? What has happened to you?—Eleanor, dearest Eleanor—what is the matter?' and Mary got up with the boy still in her arms.
'Give him to me—give him to me,' said the young mother. 'Give him to me, Mary,'and she almost tore the child out of her sister's arms. The poor little fellow murmured somewhat at the disturbance, but nevertheless nestled himself close into his mother's bosom.
'Here, Mary, take the cloak from me. My own, own darling, darling, darling jewel. You are not false to me. Everybody else is false; everybody else is cruel. Mamma will care for nobody, nobody, nobody, but her own, own, own, little man;' and she again kissed and pressed the baby, and cried till the tears ran down over the child's face.
'Who has been cruel to you, Eleanor?' said Mary. 'I hope I have not.'