'Oh! they do very well for the parish; but of course are nothing to us. The General proses over the papers to Felix sometimes, and the daughters have the loveliest eyes in the world.'
'That's Lance,' said Robina, laughing. 'Is he as tender-hearted as ever?'
'Oh yes; or more so; but as long as the ladies all have the most beautiful faces that ever were seen, and his attentions are confined to putting attractive advertisements into their parcels, I don't mind.'
'Lance is the most altered of you all,' said John.
'Dear Lance,' said Cherry, 'he has got back a great deal of his sunshine—quite enough to be very delightful to us, though I doubt whether he is always as bright to himself. There is a certain sehnsucht in the pieces of music he goes on improvising, that sometimes makes me anxious.'
'You mean whether he has got into the right line,' said John.
'It's no use thinking about that; Felix could not do without him; and he is fit for nothing else now,' said Cherry. 'I fancy when the new organ comes, he will have a love in that and be happy.'
John was thoroughly one of themselves, more eager about Bexley affairs than his wife, though she was thoroughly her affectionate self when she joined them in the evening. She was too much tired, and too glad to see their faces, to do more than repose in the sight; and it was kinder to sing than to talk to either traveller. Even the next day, when the ravages of the storm had been repaired, she had too much on her own hands to have leisure to set Cherry to-rights; and if she perceived any disuse of her pet economies, she acquiesced as if it were to be quite expected, and no more worth a protest than matters at the Bailey, whither she was going the next day. To be sure, there was a kind of implied expectation that she would some day arrive for a general rectification of what could just be tolerated under present circumstances; but this was not a very pressing alarm.
The visit was over, the new home at Woolwich begun; and before many weeks were over, it welcomed what father and aunt united in calling a magnificent boy. Felix went with Mr. Harewood to the christening, and found his sister a different creature, lovelier than he ever remembered her. It seemed as if her happiness would have been almost too great for this earth if John had only been as strong and well as he tried to appear. But, after all, Felix really believed Wilmet would have been lost without some one to nurse besides Christopher Underwood, dutifully named after his two grandfathers.
Alda had actually come down for the day. It was the first time the sisters had met since the funeral at Centry Park, and it had cost her an effort, for her third daughter was but ten days older than Wilmet's baby; and she could not withhold a slight plaint at the inequalities of fate, in bestowing only girls where they were less welcome, while the sex of Wilmet's magnificent boy could be of no possible consequence—a remark which so exasperated not only the mother, but the father, as greatly to amuse Felix.