"Thank you, Miss Anne," said Mr. Bradshaw, "the offer is too tempting to be refused." And he soon established himself as a third at the little table, and made himself very sociable.
"Well, Miss Anne, how do all your plans proceed—all your benevolences and cares? I hope your angel ministrations don't exhaust you."
"Not at all, Mr. Bradshaw; do I look like it?"
"No, indeed! but such energy is perfectly astonishing to us all."
Nina's practised eye observed that Mr. Bradshaw had that particular nervous, restless air, which belongs to a man who is charged with a particular message, and finds himself unexpectedly blockaded by the presence of a third person. So, after breakfast, exclaiming that she had left her crochet-needle in her apartment, and resisting Anne's offer to send a servant for it, by declaring that nobody could find it but herself, she left the veranda. Mr. Bradshaw had been an old family friend for many years, and stood with Anne almost on the easy footing of a relation, which gave him the liberty of speaking with freedom. The moment the door of the parlor was closed after Nina, he drew a chair near to Anne, and sat down, with the unmistakable air of a man who is going into a confidential communication.
"The fact is, my dear Miss Clayton," he said, "I have something on my mind that I want to tell you; and I hope you will think my long friendship for the family a sufficient warrant for my speaking on matters which really belong chiefly to yourself. The fact is, my dear Miss Clayton, I was at a small dinner-party of gentlemen, the other day, at Colonel Grandon's. There was a little select set there, you know,—the Howards, and the Elliotts, and the Howlands, and so on,—and the conversation happened to turn upon your brother. Now, there was the very greatest respect for him; they seemed to have the highest possible regard for his motives; but still they felt that he was going on a very dangerous course."
"Dangerous?" said Anne, a little startled.
"Yes, really dangerous; and I think so myself, though I, perhaps, don't feel as strongly as some do."
"Really," said Anne, "I'm quite at a loss!"
"My dear Miss Anne, it's these improvements, you know, which you are making.—Don't misapprehend me! Admirable, very admirable, in themselves,—done from the most charming of motives, Miss Anne,—but dangerous, dangerous!"