"I did not call you, Charles; you came yourself."
"But you kept me, sir,"—and it struck me on the instant that Davy's delicate device ought not to have been touched upon; so I felt awkward and kept silence.
I was left at home first, and promised Clara I would come, should my mother and the weather agree to permit me. I was hurried to bed by Clo, who had sat up to receive me. I was disappointed at not seeing Millicent, with the unreasonableness which is exclusively fraternal; but Clo informed me that my mother would not permit her to stay out of bed.
"And, Charles, you must not say one word to-night, but eat this slice of bacon and this egg directly, and let me take off your comforter."
The idea of eating eggs and bacon! I managed the egg, but it was all I could do, and she then presented me with a cup of hot barley-water. Oh! have you ever tasted barley-water, with a squeeze of lemon-juice, after listening to the violin? I drank it off, and was just about to make a rush at the door when Clo stopped me.
"My dear Charles, Margareth is gone up to bed; stay until I can light you with my candle. And come into my room to undress, that you may not wake my mother by throwing your brush down."
I was marched off impotent, she preceding me upstairs with a stately step. But softly as we passed along, Millicent heard us; she just opened a little bit of her door, and stooped to kiss me in her white dressing-gown. "I have chosen my instrument," I said, in a whisper, and she smiled. "Ah, Charles!"
I need not recapitulate my harangue the next morning when I came down late and found only Millicent left to make my breakfast. I was expected to be idle, and the rest had gone out to walk. But I wondered, when I came to think, that I had been so careless as to omit asking Clara the hour fixed for Miss Lawrence's visit,—though, perhaps, was my after-thought, she did not know herself. I need not have feared, though; for while I was lying about on the sofa after our dinner, having been informed that I must do so, or I should not practise in the evening, in came Margareth with a little white note directed to "Master Charles Auchester."
"I am sure, Master Charles," said she, "you ought to show it to my mistress, for the person that brought it was no servant in any family hereabouts, and looks more like a gypsy than anything else."
"Well, and so it is a gypsy, Margareth. Of course I shall tell my mother,—I know all about it."