“She will want it all to gild herself with!” said Elinor.
Margaret Pullen looked at Miss Leyton thoughtfully. Did she really mean what she said, or did her jealousy of the West Indian heiress render her capable of uttering untruths? Surely, she must see that Harriet Brandt was handsome—growing handsomer indeed, every day, with the pure sea air tinting her cheeks with a delicate flush like the inside of a shell—and that her beauty, joined to her money, would render her a tempting morsel for the men, and a formidable rival for the women.
“I do not think you would find many people to agree with your opinion, Elinor!” she said after a pause, in answer to Miss Leyton’s last remark.
“Well! I think she’s altogether odious,” replied her friend with a toss of her head, “I thought it the first time I saw her, and I shall think it to the last!”
It was the day that Captain Ralph Pullen was expected to arrive in Heyst and the two ladies were preparing to go to the station to meet him.
“The Baroness has at all events done you one good turn,” continued Miss Leyton, “she has delivered you for a few hours from your ‘Old Man of the Sea.’ What have you been doing with yourself all the morning! I expected you to meet me on the sands, after I had done bathing!”
“I have not stirred out, Elinor. I am uneasy about baby! She does not seem at all well. I have been waiting your return to ask you whether I had not better send for a doctor to see her. But I am not sure if there is such a thing in Heyst!”
“Sure to be, but don’t send unless it is absolutely necessary. What is the matter with her?”
The nurse was sitting by the open window with little Ethel on her lap. The infant looked much the same as usual—a little paler perhaps, but in a sound sleep and apparently enjoying it.
“She does not seem ill to me,” continued Elinor, “is she in any pain?”