I went. Mr. Davy was holding it yet, but the instant I entered he advanced and placed it between my arms. I embraced it, much as young ladies embrace their first wax dolls, but with emotions as sweet, as deep, as mystical as those of the youth who first presses to his soul the breathing presence of his earliest love. I saw then that this violin was a tiny thing,—a very fairy of a fiddle; it was certainly not new, but I did not know how very old it was, and should not have been the least aware how valuable it was, and of what a precious costliness, but for Davy's observation, "Take care of it, Charles, and it will make you all you wish to be. I rather suspect Santonio will envy you its possession when he has tried it."
"But is he to try it, then, Mr. Davy?"
"Your mother has given me leave to ask him, if I see him; but I fear he has already returned to London." Davy glanced here at my mother with a peculiar expression, and resumed, "I am going to write to him, at all events, about another subject, or rather upon the same subject."
"Oh, Mr. Davy, I will talk to my little boy myself."
"Certainly, madam; I will not anticipate you."
"Charles dear," said Clo, "you must have your supper now."
It appeared to me that I had already had it; but I restored my doll to its cradle in silence, and ate unconsciously. Fred's presence at the board stimulated his lady and Lydia to extreme festivity, and they laughed the whole time; but Millicent was pale and Davy quiet, and he departed as soon as he possibly might. But a smile of sweetness all his own, and of significance sweeter than sweetness, brightened his frank adieu for me into the day-spring of my decided destiny.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The next morning my mother redeemed her promise. It was directly after breakfast when she had placed herself in the chair at the parlor window. She made no allusion to the evening before until she completed this arrangement of hers, and then she looked so serious, as I stood before her, that I fully expected something I should not like.