"Oh! sister, that cream! I knew you would be ill."
"I cannot tell the reason, but I am very ill. Send for Mr. Boscawen, Chrystal." Isabel looked very pale, and was unable to rise from the sofa.
"Oh! sister, don't send for my brother; let me assist you to your room; the cream has made you sick."
"Send for Mr. Boscawen," repeated Isabel, her face becoming flushed with pain.
Mr. Boscawen was summoned, and he carried Isabel to her bed. The surprise and joy of receiving her family unexpectedly, had brought on a rather premature confinement. The medical man was sent for, the nurse was summoned in haste; all the household were in commotion. The medical attendant gave it as his opinion some surprise or alarm had hastened Mrs. Boscawen's accouchement. Miss Boscawen was convinced it was the raspberry-cream.
Sir John decided to remain at Brierly, till Isabel should be considered out of all danger, and till the little stranger should receive his blessing. All that night passed in eager hope and watching. Christobelle could not sleep; she could not rest in her bed, but remained at Isabel's door, listening to every sound and footfall till the morning dawned; and then Miss Boscawen insisted upon her going to rest again. "Isabel was doing very well, considering she had hastened every thing by eating the cream so pertinaciously, against her own better judgment; she never could digest cream herself at any period of her life; how could her sister expect to do so, when she was so near her confinement?"
Under many promises on Miss Boscawen's part not to forget her in the general confusion, Christobelle retired to her room, and slept long and soundly; when she woke again, Isabel was in safety, and the house of Boscawen rejoiced in a son and heir to succeed to its honours. Miss Boscawen brought the blessed intelligence herself, and redeemed her promise by so doing. Christobelle wanted to fly that instant to her sister, but Miss Boscawen objected. "She was too young to judge of consequences," she remarked; "she would talk too much, or laugh too loud for Isabel's nerves. She should visit her in proper time, and at proper seasons; she had just seen her father, and he had taken Master Boscawen in his arms, and pronounced him a very fine child. Isabel was now, she hoped, asleep."
Christobelle said she would rise immediately, as she wanted very much to see her father; she was surprised to learn he had quitted Brierly soon after his interview with Isabel. He would not allow Christobelle to be called, because her rest had been broken; he left his affectionate love, and his wishes that his child would write often, and attend to Miss Boscawen's directions in her conduct. He had returned to Wetheral rather earlier than he intended, but business of importance called him away. This was Christobelle's first separation from her father. She learned afterwards Mr. Boscawen's perfect approbation of his scheme to spend some months in Scotland; and by so doing, putting it out of Clara's power to renew her engagement with Sir Foster, induced Sir John to hurry away to its fulfilment. It was his intention to leave Wetheral in the course of a fortnight with the whole establishment, and pass the summer at Fairlee. Christobelle was to be Mr. Boscawen's care till her father recalled her.
Isabel was delighted with that part of the plan which decided her sister a guest at Brierly for an indefinite period. The satisfaction of her mind gave her strength and spirits to delight in her little one, and to bear with unparalleled sweetness of temper the tiresome attentions and fears of Miss Boscawen. Nothing was quite right with the old lady which did not emanate from herself. The child was too upright, or it was too long in a horizontal posture. Its food was acid, or too sweet; it was too tight in its clothes, or the poor little thing was hardly kept together in its covering. Isabel tied and untied, as the complaint dictated; but some new fault was ever arising to rouse the alarms of Miss Boscawen. One morning, Isabel amused herself by dressing her babe with her own hands, a pleasure she had not enjoyed since its birth. The nurse sat by her mistress's bed-side, watching and directing the operation, while Christobelle gazed delightedly at the little thing as it crowed and stretched its limbs. The sisters were most pleasingly occupied when Miss Boscawen entered. Her alarms were roused immediately.
"Oh! sister, how can you sit up there, dressing the child? Nurse, take away the infant, your mistress will be so fatigued! you must lie down again, sister."