“Oh! well, if you can stay, Andrew will take charge of you, I dare say.”
“No, my dear, Andrew will not—a nonentity cannot—you must.”
“Impossible, Louisa,” said Evan, as one who imagines he is uttering a thing of little consequence. “I promised Rose.”
“You promised Rose that you would abdicate and retire? Sweet, loving girl!”
Evan made no answer.
“You will stay with me, Evan.”
“I really can’t,” he said in his previous careless tone.
“Come and sit down,” cried the Countess, imperiously. “The first trifle is refused. It does not astonish me. I will honour you now by talking seriously to you. I have treated you hitherto as a child. Or, no—” she stopped her mouth; “it is enough if I tell you, dear, that poor Mrs. Bonner is dying, and that she desires my attendance on her to refresh her spirit with readings on the Prophecies, and Scriptural converse. No other soul in the house can so soothe her.”
“Then, stay,” said Evan.
“Unprotected in the midst of enemies! Truly!”