Barbara in Brittany

by E. A. Gillie

"It was dreadfully foolish of me," the girl said after a while, "but it was so nice to see you again. Mademoiselle Thérèse is very kind, but—she creaks about, you know, and—and fusses, and it is a little trying to have foreigners about when you are—out of sorts."

"Trying! She would drive me distracted. Indeed, if I had only her to nurse me I should die just to get rid of her!"

"Oh, she's not quite so bad as that," Barbara returned. "She has been very kind indeed, aunt, and is a very good teacher; and you get used to her, you know."

"Perhaps. But now I'll just tell you how they are at home. Then you must be quiet, and, as I crossed in the night, I shall be glad of a rest too. I can stay in here quietly beside you."

Miss Britton having had a little experience in sickness, saw that, though probably there was no need for anxiety, Barbara was certainly ill. She felt more reassured after she had seen the doctor, who she allowed "seemed sensible enough for a Frenchman," and wrote her sister-in-law a cheery letter, saying the girl had probably been doing too much, and had felt the strain of the affair of the "solicitor" more than they had realised.

"The doctor says it is a kind of low fever," she told the Mortons; "but I say, heat, smells, and fussiness."

After a few days' experience, she owned that the Loirés were certainly not lacking in kindness, but still she did not care to stay there very long; and she told Denys Morton that she had never been so polite, under provocation, in her life before. The uncle and nephew, who had not yet moved on, did not speak of continuing their travels for the present, and Miss Britton was very glad to know they were in the town.

One of Barbara's regrets was that she had missed seeing the meeting between Mr. Morton and her aunt, and that she was perhaps keeping the latter from enjoying as much of his company as she might otherwise have done. There were many things she wanted to do with Miss Britton when allowed to get up, but in the meanwhile she had to content herself with talking about them. She was much touched by the attention of Mademoiselle Viré, who sent round by Jeannette wonderful home-made dainties that, as Barbara explained to her aunt, "she ought to have been eating herself."

A fortnight after Miss Britton's arrival Barbara was allowed to go downstairs, and, after having once been out, her health came back "like a swallow's flight," as Mademoiselle Thérèse poetically, though a little ambiguously, described it. She and her aunt spent as much time out of doors as possible, going for so many excursions that Barbara began to know the country round quite well; but, though many of the drives were beautiful, none seemed to equal the one she had had with Mademoiselle Viré, which was a thing apart.

They drove to La Guimorais again one afternoon, and on their return the girl told Denys Morton, who had been with them, the story of the manoir. He was silent for a little at the close, then, as if it had suggested another story to his mind, he looked towards where his uncle and Miss Britton were walking up and down.