“You are cold, Rose,” said Laxley, bending to lay his hand on her shoulder.
“Pray, never touch me,” she answered, and walked on hastily to the house.
Entering it, she remembered that Evan had dwelt there. A sense of desolation came over her. She turned to Ferdinand remorsefully, saying: “Dear Ferdinand!” and allowed herself to be touched and taken close to him. When she reached her bed-room, she had time to reflect that he had kissed her on the lips, and then she fell down and shed such tears as had never been drawn from her before.
Next day she rose with an undivided mind. Belonging henceforth to Ferdinand, it was necessary that she should invest him immediately with transcendent qualities. The absence of character in him rendered this easy. What she had done for Evan, she did for him. But now, as if the Fates had been lying in watch to entrap her and chain her, that they might have her at their mercy, her dreams of Evan’s high nature—hitherto dreams only—were to be realized. With the purposeless waywardness of her sex, Pony Wheedle, while dressing her young mistress, and though quite aware that the parting had been spoken, must needs relate her sister’s story and Evan’s share in it. Rose praised him like one forever aloof from him. Nay, she could secretly congratulate herself on not being deceived. Upon that came a letter from Caroline:
“Do not misjudge my brother. He knew Juliana’s love for him and rejected it. You will soon have proofs of his disinterestedness. Then do not forget that he works to support us all. I write this with no hope save to make you just to him. That is the utmost he will ever anticipate.”
It gave no beating of the heart to Rose to hear good of Evan now: but an increased serenity of confidence in the accuracy of her judgement of persons.
The arrival of Lawyer Perkins supplied the key to Caroline’s communication. No one was less astonished than Rose at the news that Evan renounced the estate. She smiled at Harry’s contrite stupefaction, and her father’s incapacity of belief in conduct so singular, caused her to lift her head and look down on her parent.
“Shows he knows nothing of the world, poor young fellow!” said Sir Franks.
“Nothing more clearly,” observed Lady Jocelyn. “I presume I shall cease to be blamed for having had him here?”
“Upon my honour, he must have the soul of a gentleman!” said the baronet. “There’s nothing he can expect in return, you know!”