‘That I can well believe,’ said Albinia. ‘Well, my dear—’
‘I think,’ pursued Genevieve, ‘that he was vexed because I would not let him absorb me exclusively at Fairmead; and began to reproach me, and protest—’
‘And like a wise woman you waked the sleeping dragon,’ said Albinia. ‘Was this all?’
‘No, madame; so little had passed, that I hoped it was only the excitement, and that he would forget; but on Saturday he met me in the flagged path, and oh! he said a great deal, though I did my best to convince him that he could only make himself be laughed at. I hoped even then that he was silenced, and that I need not mention it, but I see he has been watching me, and I dare not go out alone lest I should meet him. He called this morning, and not seeing me left this note.’
‘Do your grandmother and aunt know?’
‘Oh, no! I would far rather not tell them. Need I? Oh! madame, surely you can speak to him, and no one need ever hear of it?’ implored Genevieve. ‘You have promised me that no one shall be told!’
‘No one shall, my dear. I hope soon to tell you that he is heartily ashamed of having teased you. No one need be ashamed of thinking you very dear and good—you can’t help being loveable, but Master Gibbie has no right to tell you so, and we’ll put an end to it. He will soon be in India out of your way. Good-bye!’
Albinia kissed the confused and blushing maiden, and walked away, provoked, yet diverted.
She found Gilbert alone, and was not slow in coming to the point, endeavouring to model her treatment on that of her brother, the General, towards his aide-de-camp in the like predicaments.
‘Gilbert, I want to speak to you. I am afraid you have been making yourself troublesome to Miss Durant. You are old enough to know better than to write such a note as this.’