"Oh, Arthur," said the young girl earnestly, "how beautiful she is! I must give her a little kiss before she awakes, as she will, I am sure, with the water. There, there, my beauty!" for the kiss seemed to be the most effectual remedy. Her eyelids quivered, causing thereby such excitement to Arthur that part of the contents of the glass of water he held fell over her feet, and Adèle—for that was the name of the young lady who had given such timely assistance—told him with mock indignation to go off, and not come again till he was called. Without a word Arthur turned away. He would scarcely have been so obedient the day before, but the incident of that afternoon seemed to have robbed him of his power. He stood in the entrance of the hall, watching until he should be sent for by the ladies.
For the first time in his life Arthur wished he had been a girl. His thoughts, to tell the truth, were rapidly becoming very sentimental. Adèle, happy Adèle! he thought of her with a new respect. She could carry on these gentle ministries impossible to the rougher hands of men. With what tenderness and skill she had used her remedies! And then the kiss! Yes, women, after all, possessed certain advantages. And her first look would be for Adèle. If he had been more expert, it might have been for him. Had any one told Arthur, even an hour before, that he could ever have been jealous of his cousin, he would certainly have scorned the idea: he had always considered himself so vastly superior to women in general, and his pretty little playmate in particular. He had not much time, however, to indulge in these brilliantly novel ideas, for before many moments had passed Adèle appeared. "You may offer her your arm," she said. "I want to get her out of this place as quickly as possible."
"Have you found out anything about her?"
"Only that her name is Margaret Grey. A letter dropped out of her pocket, and I saw the signature, or rather she pointed it out to me as I handed it back to her. I fancy she is a widow, though she has not actually told me so. She is staying in lodgings at some distance. Poor thing! I am afraid she is very poor."
Adèle's pretty face was clouded as she spoke, but she said no more, for they were very near the spot where Margaret had been left.
"Margaret!" thought Arthur, "Margaret!" and the one word seemed to cling about his brain like a sweet, indefinable music as awkwardly enough, it must be confessed, he approached her to offer his arm.
She rose when she saw him, a slight blush on her cheek, but as she looked up at his frank young face the blush faded and her composure returned.
"I have to thank you for great kindness, sir," she said with a gentle dignity. "I cannot think what came over me just now. It must have been the heat of the place; but I feel much stronger now, and if you will add to your goodness the further favor of giving me your arm for the length of the galleries, I can find my way home without any more assistance."
Her voice was almost as overpowering to Arthur as her face had been. He tried to stammer out a reply, when Adèle came happily to his assistance. Taking one of the lady's hands in her own, she said with gentle earnestness, "Pray allow me to manage for you. My cousin will tell you how much I like to arrange everything for my neighbors; it is my pet weakness. Then, you know, you are my patient, and I expect you to be obedient. Mamma has sent the carriage for me, for she was not quite certain that I should meet Arthur. We can drive you to any point you like to mention. Please do not deny me this pleasure."
The lady blushed again, but Adèle's gentle delicacy triumphed. She bowed her head in acquiescence, and took Arthur's arm, leaning on it somewhat heavily, for she was still weak. Adèle walked on her other side, slightly supporting her from time to time; and so they passed through the gallery, with not many thoughts for the pictures, just as the daylight was beginning to wane.