"Frightened you, my love!"
"Oh, yes, you did very much after I was married; you looked so proud and frowning, and then those nasty books! I don't think I quite loved you till you took my part about the cream, and then I did begin in earnest: I thought it so good of you; but when you allowed me to dress my child, oh, then how could I help loving you!" Isabel, under the influence of her feelings, threw her arms round Mr. Boscawen's neck, and burst into tears. The action woke her infant. "There, now, Boscawen dear, we have woke the little darling; how could you let me talk in that way, and do such things! I don't know what was the matter with me."
Isabel, in smiles and tears, began the preparation for her child's comforts. The nurse was summoned, and it was fed before her, as she gazed delightedly at its movements: the face and figure of Isabel received its greatest charm from her maternal solicitude. Her enthusiastic nature was interestingly and beautifully illustrated in the devotion of her heart to this one most loved object, and the insouciance of Isabel Wetheral was buried in the deep love of her offspring. Christobelle never remembered her so captivating as she appeared at this moment, when her attention was engrossed in watching her child. The tears of grateful remembrance were upon her cheek, yet smiles were chasing every emotion from her heart, but those of tenderness and a mother's pride. Mr. Boscawen looked on, enchanted. Isabel, in the fullness of her heart, turned for the first time since her arrival to Miss Boscawen.
"Ah, Tabitha, I am sure you will be one of our party round the Castle Hill, to enjoy my babe's crowing delight. Do put away your work, and join us."
Miss Boscawen did not look up from her work, as she drily replied, "No, thank you, sister."
Mr. Boscawen thought a little promenade would be very pleasant after a long drive, and he joined in his lady's wish that she would attend them.
"No, thank you, brother." Miss Boscawen fixed her eyes pertinaciously upon her work: she sat like a wax figure, motionless, and apparently sightless.
"I am afraid you are ill, Tabitha," observed Isabel. "Do let me order you a glass of wine and a biscuit. A glass of wine, dear Boscawen, would not that do Tabitha good?"
"No, thank you, sister."
"A biscuit, Tabitha."