How Christobelle dwelt upon the words which fell from Spottiswoode's lips! She could not sorrow for her mother's harshness while he was near her. She only felt the calm of his presence, and the absence of every regret. But she should weep when she was alone again! She should suffer when she had time to reflect upon every thing—but not at that moment, for the arm of Spottiswoode encircled her, and she was too happy to reflect.
Christobelle received no letter from Lady Wetheral, but her father wrote to her of all he suffered; and he said, his happiest moments were passed in contemplating her prospects. His Chrystal was given to a man who would value the blessing conferred upon him. She would be the wife of a good man—a wife as happy as Isabel, or as Anna Maria proved to be—a wife whose hopes were anchored upon high principle and religious feeling, and who, therefore, would not be called upon to endure the undying torments of self-reproach.
He could not allow himself to think upon Clara—but she had been removed early from her strife. What Julia's destiny would be, he could not venture to assert. She was a banished child to him. They were to begin their journey the day after Spottiswoode quitted Fairlee, but the passage would be very slowly made, as her mother could not endure travelling long—her nerves were worse than ever. Her father urged her to be at Wetheral to receive them. If her other parent would not see her, Wetheral was large enough to contain them apart, but he could not live without her, and she must not disappoint him of her presence. Her father concluded his epistle with a thousand parental blessings and cares for her future comforts.
Spottiswoode watched Christobelle as she read. "Is it a letter of comfort, my Chrystal?" he asked, as she finished its perusal. "Yes, I think so, by those large eyes, as Pen calls them. It is a letter of comfort, is it not, dearest Chrystal?"
Christobelle placed it silently into his hands, and she now watched Spottiswoode as he read. She saw the deepened red upon his cheek, as he lingered over her father's commendation, and his eye met her own.
"Every word of it is true, Spottiswoode," she observed.
"You are a partial, dear creature, Chrystal; but I will try to deserve his opinion so kindly expressed."
Mrs. Spottiswoode entered. "Three minutes past the quarter, John, and every one is impatient to see Chrystal again. Papa says she is as beautiful as his celebrated colt, which is the height of his commendation. I am jealous, too, myself of your society. You must return with me, good people." She led them forth.
Christobelle conferred with Boscawen upon the contents of her father's letter. Since he wished her to be at Wetheral when he arrived, she thought she had better not return to Brierly. They might travel more rapidly than was anticipated. Lady Wetheral might feel more equal to the journey than she imagined, and Christobelle might be at Brierly the moment they reached Wetheral. She felt she would prefer returning to Wetheral from Lidham; and Isabel would understand the circumstances, which left her no power to act otherwise. She would return to Brierly at a future time.