Disconcerted at her waste of preparation, Theodora stood for a moment, fancying Violet triumphant in having spoilt Arthur’s holiday by what must have been an exaggerated trifle. She was almost ready to make no inquiry for Johnnie, but ‘conventional instinct’ prevailed, and his parents were so full of him, and of each other, that it set them off into an eager conversation, such as made her, in her present mood, believe herself neglected for the sake of Arthur’s weak, tyrannical, exacting idol. She resolved to take Charles at once to her father’s house. If it would not have been an insult to her brother, she would have slept there herself. She surprised the others by rising from her seat, and taking up the boy’s cap.
‘Oh!’ exclaimed Violet, ‘I had forgotten him, poor little fellow. I will take him to Susan to have some tea.’
‘Thank you, I am going to take him to the maid at our house.’
‘O, pray do not,’ said Violet, imploringly; ‘there’s plenty of room here, and we can see about him so much better.’
‘I had rather,’ persisted Theodora.
‘But see, it is getting dark. The lamps are lighted. You can’t go now.’
‘I shall not lose my way,’ said Theodora, taking by the hand the poor boy, who seemed unwilling to leave the fire and Mrs. Martindale’s kind looks.
‘Now, Arthur! you wont let her go!’ said Violet, distressed.
‘What’s the row?’ said Arthur. ‘Setting out on your travels again, Theodora!’
‘Only to take Charlie to Belgrave-square.’