“Et vera incessa patuit Dea.”
When she got to the hotel she held up her finger to Severne with a pretty peremptoriness. She had shown him so much tenderness, she felt she had a right to order him now: “I must beg of you,” said she, “to go straight to your rooms and dress very quickly, and present yourself to Harrington five minutes before dinner at least.”
“I will obey,” said he, obsequiously.
That pleased her, and she kissed her hand to him and scudded to her own room.
At sight of the blazing fire and provident preparations, she started, and said, aloud, “Oh, how nice of them!” and, all dripping as she was, she stood there with her young heart in a double glow.
Such a nature as hers has too little egotism and low-bred vanity to undervalue worthy love. The infinite heart of a Zoe Vizard can love but one with passion, yet ever so many more with warm and tender affection.
She gave Aunt Maitland credit for this provident affection. It was out of the sprightly Fanny's line; and she said to herself, “Dear old thing! there, I thought she was bottling up a lecture for me, and all the time her real anxiety was lest I should be wet through.” Thereupon she settled in her mind to begin loving Aunt Maitland from that hour. She did not ring for her maid till she was nearly dressed, and, when Rosa came and exclaimed at the condition of her cast-off robes, she laughed and told her it was nothing—the Rhine was nice and warm—pretending she had been in it. She ordered her to dry the dress, and iron it.
“Why, la, miss; you'll never wear it again, to be sure?” said Rosa, demurely.
“I don't know,” said the young lady, archly; “but I mean to take great care of it,” and burst out laughing like a peal of silver bells, because she was in high spirits, and saw what Rosa would be at.
Give away the gown she had been wooed and wet through in—no, thank you! Such gowns as these be landmarks, my masters.