“Wherever she could find the best—but why not there? and what do you mean by all this mystery?”
“Go and fetch her here at once,” cried he. “If she should see him suddenly, the shock might do her great harm.”
“See whom? see whom?” exclaimed she, wildly. “Don't torture me this way!”
“Jack, her brother,—Jack Bramleigh,” and he proceeded to tell how he had found him, and in what condition; but she heard nothing of it all, for she had sunk down on a seat, and sat sobbing, with her hands over her face; then, suddenly wiping the tears away, she rose up, and, while her voice trembled with each word, she said, “Is he changed, George? is he greatly changed?”
“Changed! yes, for he has been ill, and gone through all manner of hardships, and now he is dressed like a Montenegro chief, for we could get no other clothes, so that you'll scarcely know him.”
“Let us find Nelly at once,” said she, moving towards the door. “Come, George,—come,” and she was down the stairs, and across the hall, and out at the door, before he could follow her. In her agitated manner, and rapid expression, it was evident she was endeavoring to subdue the deep emotion of her heart, and, by seeming to be occupied, to suppress the signs of that blended joy and sorrow which rack the nature more fatally than downright misery.
“See, George, look there!” cried she, wildly, as she pointed down a straight alley, at the top of which they were standing. “There they are. Nelly has her arm round him. They have met, and it is all over;” and so saying, she hid her face on her brother's shoulder, and sobbed heavily. Meanwhile, the two came slowly forward, too much engaged with each other to notice those in front of them.
CHAPTER LVIII. THE VILLA LIFE.
It is not at this the eleventh hour of my story, I can stop to dwell on the life of the villa at Cattaro, though I am free to own it was about the sunniest bit of landscape our long journey has offered us.