Lady Darrell was generosity itself! In her quiet, amiable way she liked Miss Hastings as well as she was capable of liking any one. She insisted upon making all kinds of arrangements for the governess—she was to have every comfort, every luxury.
"And you must do nothing," she said, in her most caressing manner, "but try to get well. I shall expect to see you looking quite young and blooming when you return."
Lady Darrell had already written to Omberleigh, and, through an agent there, had secured beautiful apartments. When Miss Hastings half remonstrated with her, she laughed.
"I have nothing to do," she said, "but make every one happy; and it is my duty to find you always a comfortable home."
Lady Darrell looked, as she was in those days, a most happy woman. She seemed to have grown younger and fairer. The height of her ambition, the height of her happiness, was reached at last. She was rich in the world's goods, and it was in her power to make the man she loved rich and powerful too. She was, for the first time in her life, pleasing her own heart; and happiness made her more tender, more amiable, more considerate and thoughtful for others.
Lady Hampton mourned over the great mistake her niece was making. She had whispered in confidence to all her dear friends that Elinor was really going to throw herself away on the captain after all. It was such a pity, she said, when Lord Aynsley was so deeply in love with her.
"But then," she concluded, with a sigh, "it is a matter in which I cannot interfere."
Yet, looking at Lady Darrell's bright, happy face, she could not quite regret the captain's existence.
"You will not be lonely, Lady Darrell," said Miss Hastings, the evening before her journey.
She never forgot the light that spread over the fair young face—the intense happiness that shone in the blue eyes.