‘Well, Jane,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘you know how thankful I am to you and Ada, but I am inclined to let it depend on the letters I get to-morrow, and the way Victoria takes it. If it is really an earnest wish on that dear little Fly’s account, I could not withstand old Rotherwood, and though Mysie might be less happy than she would be with you, I do not think any harm will be done. Everything there is sound and conscientious, and if she picks up a little polish, it won’t hurt her.’
‘Shall you give her the choice?’
‘I see no good in rending the poor child’s mind between two affections, especially as there will be a very short time to decide in, for I shall certainly not send her if Victoria’s is a mere duty letter.’
‘You are quite right there, Lily,’ said the Colonel. ‘The less choice the greater comfort.’
‘Well done, sir soldier,’ said his sister Jane. ‘I say quite right too; only, for my own sake, I wish it had been Valetta.’
‘So no doubt does she,’ said the mother; ‘but unluckily it isn’t. And, indeed, I don’t think I wish it. Val is safer with you. As Gillian expressed it the other day, “Val does right when she likes it; Mysie does right when she knows it.”’
‘You have the compliment after all, Jane,’ said the Colonel. ‘Lily trusts you with the child she doesn’t trust!’
There was no doubt the next morning, for Lady Rotherwood wrote an earnest, affectionate letter, begging for Mysie, who, she said, had won such golden opinions in her former visit that it would be a real benefit to Phyllis, as much morally as physically, to have her companionship. It was the tenderest letter that either of the sisters had ever seen from the judicious and excellent Marchioness, full of warm sympathy for Lady Merrifield’s anxiety for her husband, and betraying much solicitude for her little girl.
‘It has done her good,’ said Jane Mohun. ‘I did not think she had such a soft spot.’
‘Poor Victoria,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘that is a shame. You know she is an excellent mother.’