Her eyes laughed at him. “No, indeed! What a shocking thing that I should be obliged to forgo a few balls! How shall I survive it, I wonder? How delightful it would be in me to be demanding my aunt’s chaperonage at parties with the house, in this upset! Now, pray do not let me hear anymore on this head, but instead of vexing yourself with such absurdities, try what you may do to divert my aunt’s mind! You know her nervous disposition and how the least thing upsets her constitution! The charge of keeping her soothed and calm falls wholly upon poor Cecy, for your papa, if you will not be offended with me for saying so, is not of the smallest use in such a crisis as this!”
“I know it,” he responded. “I will do what I may. I can well imagine how arduous a task Cecilia finds it. Indeed, I was shocked to see her looking so fagged!” He hesitated, and said, a little stiffly, “Miss Wraxton, perhaps might be of service there. I would not suggest her entering Amabel’s room, but I am sure if she would sit with my mother sometimes it must be of benefit! The tone of her mind is such that — ” He broke off, perceiving a change in his cousin’s expression, and said with some asperity, “I am aware that you dislike Miss Wraxton, but even you will allow that her calm good sense must be of value in this predicament!”
“My dear Charles, do not eat me! I have no doubt it is just as you say!” Sophy replied. “Try if she will come to this house!”
More she would not say, but it was not long before Mr. Rivenhall had discovered that his betrothed, while sympathizing most sincerely with his family on their affliction, had no intention of exposing her person to the dangers of infection. She told him, clasping his hand fondly, that her mama had most expressly forbidden her to enter the house until all danger should be past. It was true. Lady Brinklow herself told Mr. Rivenhall so. Upon learning that he had had the imprudence to visit Amabel, she became visible alarmed and begged him not to repeat the visit. Miss Wraxton added the weight of her own counsel. “Indeed, Charles, it is not wise! There can be no need for you to run such a risk, moreover. Gentlemen in sickrooms are quite out of place!”
“Are you afraid that I may take the disease and convey it to you?” he asked, in his blunt way. “I beg your pardon! I should not have come to call upon you! I will not do so again until Amabel is well.” Lady Brinklow hailed this decision with obvious relief, but it was going too far for her daughter, who at once assured Mr. Rivenhall that he was talking nonsense and must always be a welcome caller in Brook Street. He thanked her but took his leave of her almost immediately.
His opinion of her was not improved by finding, upon his return to Berkeley Square, that Lord Charlbury was sitting with his mother. It soon transpired that he was a regular visitor to the house, and, whatever his motive might be, Mr. Rivenhall could not but honor him for his indifference to the danger of infection.
Another regular caller was Mr. Fawnhope, but since his only object in coming was to see Cecilia, Mr. Rivenhall was easily able to refrain from succumbing to any feelings of gratitude toward him for his intrepid visits. But Cecilia was looking so worn and anxious that, with rare restraint, he curbed his bitter tongue, and made no reference whatsoever to her lover’s frequent presence in the house.
Had he but known it, Mr. Fawnhope’s visits were affording Cecilia quite as little pleasure as he could have desired. It was midway through the second week of Amabel’s illness, and that she was very seriously unwell Dr. Baillie did not waste his time denying to her nurses. Cecilia had no inclination toward any form of dalliance and no interest in poetic drama. She carried up to the sickroom a remarkably fine bunch of grapes, saying in a low tone to Sophy that Lord Charlbury had brought them for Amabel, having sent all the way to his country seat for them. He was said to possess some of the finest succession houses in the country, besides a pinery which, he promised, should yield the best of its fruits to Amabel, as soon as they should become ripe enough to be eaten.
“How very kind!” said Sophy, setting the dish upon a table. “I did not know Charlbury had called. I had thought it was Augustus.”
“They were both here,” Cecilia replied. “Augustus wished to give me a poem he has written on a sick child.”