“I wish I were her only friend, madam. I daresay it sounds very brutal; but here have I been displaced, and turned out of my post of comforter and adviser by a fine lady aunt; and there are cousins and what not claiming her in London, as if she were a lap-dog belonging to them. And she is too weak and miserable to have a will of her own.”
“She must indeed be weak,” said Mrs. Thornton, with an implied meaning which her son understood well. “But where,” continued Mrs. Thornton, “have these relations been all this time that Miss Hale has appeared almost friendless, and has certainly had a good deal of anxiety to bear?” But she did not feel interest enough in the answer to her question to wait for it. She left the room to make her household arrangements.
“They have been living abroad. They have some kind of claim upon her. I will do them that justice. The aunt brought her up, and she and the cousin have been like sisters. The thing vexing me, you see, is that I wanted to take her for a child of my own; and I am jealous of these people, who don’t seem to value the privilege of their right. Now it would be different if Frederick claimed her.”
“Frederick!” exclaimed Mr. Thornton. “Who is he? What right——?” He stopped short in his vehement question.
“Frederick,” said Mr. Bell in surprise. “Why, don’t you know? He’s her brother. Have you not heard——”
“I never heard his name before. Where is he? Who is he?”
“Surely I told you about him, when the family first came to Milton—the son who was concerned in that mutiny.”
“I never heard of him till this moment. Where does he live?”
“In Spain. He’s liable to be arrested the moment he sets foot on English ground. Poor fellow! he will grieve at not being able to attend his father’s funeral. We must be content with Captain Lennox; for I don’t know of any other relation.”
“I hope I may be allowed to go?”