Oh, Lionne, Lionne! what is to be the end of this?
August 12th.—I was scarcely surprised when Janie came to-day to tell me in a broken voice that her cousin had just informed her of her intention to leave Mushin-Bunda as soon as possible, and that she had already written to Mrs Grant to ask if she could receive her at Madras until her uncle’s wishes with respect to her movements should be made known. I was not surprised, because I felt convinced that, after what had passed between us yesterday afternoon, her proud spirit would forbid her remaining under the same roof with me, if any alternative were open to her; at the same time I felt deeply hurt to think that my imprudence should be the means of driving her from the shelter of it. Janie, on the other hand, innocent as to the cause, had no reason to feel hurt, except by the want of confidence reposed in her; but she was wonderfully astonished, and disposed to resent my not being so as an additional grievance.
‘Why, you don’t seem in the least surprised to hear it, Robert!’ she complained. ‘Has Margaret said anything about it to you before?’
‘The subject has never been broached between us; but Miss Anstruther has a right, of course, to follow her own inclinations, and we none to interfere with them.’
‘No; but what can be the reason?’
‘Did you not ask her, Janie?’
‘Of course; but she only says that she does not feel so well here as she did at Madras.’
‘I think that is quite sufficient to account for her desiring a change. Strength soon gives way in this country; and I don’t think your cousin has been looking well or strong lately. What we know of her sleep-walking propensity is a proof of that.’
‘Then I mustn’t persuade her to stop with us, Robert?’ continued Janie, pleadingly.