‘Quita,’ she whispered, as she lifted her daughter on to the bed, ‘you haven’t deceived me? There is a mystery about this illness of yours which may ruin your whole life. Take my advice, my dear, and marry Sir Russell Johnstone. It will be your salvation.’
‘But, mother,’ whispered Maraquita back again, with her face hidden in her mother’s sleeve, ‘there—there is some one else.’
‘Do you suppose I don’t know that, and that I needn’t go far to find him, either, Quita? But no woman ever married yet, my dear, without there being “some one else.” But he will be no good to you, and you must forget him as soon as you can. You’ve made a fool of yourself, and your only remedy lies in marriage; but you can’t marry him. Your father would never hear of such a thing. He looks high for you, and he has a right to do so. He would as soon consent to your marrying Black Sandie as—as—’
‘Hush, mother!’ cried Maraquita. ‘Don’t speak his name: I cannot bear it.’
‘He has behaved like a villain to you, my dear, and you ought to despise him for it. It is only for your sake that I have not had him turned off the plantation. But if I hold my tongue, you must promise to think well over the advantages of Sir Russell’s proposal.’
‘I will—I will—’
‘It is a perfect godsend, and you would be a fool to reject it. I can’t understand your being so upset over a piece of good fortune,’ said Mrs Courtney, as she bent over her. ‘I hope—I hope, Maraquita, that you won’t let this folly interfere with it.’
She said so meaningly, for she had not failed to observe the manner in which the young overseer and Maraquita had looked at each other on the occasions of Henri de Courcelles’ visits to the White House. Her daughter flushed slightly, and turned her head away.
‘Of course not,’ she answered pettishly. ‘But if I did, what of it, mamma? My father says I am not to be biassed in my inclinations, and that means I may choose for myself.’
‘So long as you choose an eligible person, Maraquita; but you quite mistake your father if you imagine he will consent to your marriage with any one beneath yourself. He is very particular on that score. You are our only child, and will inherit all his fortune, and you have a right to make a good match. Now, pray, my dear, don’t be foolish. All girls have their little fancies, you know, but they learn to get over them, and you must do the same, won’t you?’