‘And which is Percy’s?’
‘Whichever mine is, which makes it all the worse. Violet! I wish Helen could be put into the hot-house, and made a woman of at once. Only, then, if Lord St. Erme is to have her, it would be equally troublesome.’
‘My dears, pray come in!’ said Lady Martindale, in the porch. ‘You do not know how late it is.’
Her ladyship was in an unusual hurry to make them wish good night, and come up-stairs. She followed Violet to her room, and in one moment had begun:
‘Violet, my dear, has Arthur told you?’
‘He has told me nothing. What is it?’
‘We all think, now Theodora is going to leave us, that it would be the best way for you all to come and live at home with us. Lord Martindale wishes it, and John, and every one. Will you, my dear?’
‘How very kind!’ exclaimed Violet. ‘What does Arthur say?’
‘Arthur says he is willing, but that it must depend on what you like.’ Then, perhaps taking Violet’s bewildered looks for reluctance, ‘I am afraid, my dear, I have not always been as affectionate as you deserved, and have not always tried to make you comfortable.’
‘Oh! no, no! Don’t say so!’