‘You are like one of my little sisters giving her doll to the other to keep,’ said Violet.
‘Some folks say it is a doll, don’t they, John?’
‘Well, I will try to take as much care of your doll as she does of hers,’ said John, smiling.
‘Good-bye, then! I wish I could stay!’
Violet went to the gate with him, while John stood at the window watching the slender girlish figure under the canopy of clematis, as she stood gazing after her husband, then turned and slowly paced back again, her eyes on the ground, and her face rather sad and downcast.
That pretty creature was a strange new charge for him, and he dreaded her pining almost as he would have feared the crying of a child left alone with him.
‘Well, Violet,’ said he, cheerfully, ‘we must do our best. What time would you like to take a drive?’
‘Any time, thank you,’ said she, gratefully, but somewhat plaintively; ‘but do not let me be a trouble to you. Sarah is going to hire a chair for me to go down to the beach. I only want not to be in your way.’
‘I have nothing to do. You know I am no great walker, and I am glad of an excuse for setting up my carriage. Shall we dine early, and go out when the sun is not so high?’
‘Thank you! that will be delightful. I want to see those beautiful places that I was too tired to look at on Saturday.’