"Familiarity which begins en passant, ends in contempt pour toujours, Miss Wetheral."
"Would you wish to lie down, mamma, or shall I ring for Mrs. Bevan?" asked her daughter, willing to change the subject.
"Neither, Miss Wetheral. I wish simply to remain here, and, if you please, you shall read to me."
Christobelle continued reading to her mother, who sat reclining in a lounging-chair, till a tap at the door announced Mrs. Bevan in waiting. Her ladyship touched a little silver hand-bell by her side, to indicate to Mrs. Bevan that she might enter. She brought a summons from her master, to beg the ladies would make their appearance.
"Tell Frederick, Mrs. Bevan, to inform your master we will descend when the luncheon is announced: I am very nervous and unwell."
"My lady, I believe my Lord Farnborough is in the drawing-room."
"Oh! very well, Mrs. Bevan, we are coming immediately." Mrs. Bevan vanished. "My dear love, just draw out your beautiful curls; and if you could pass a narrow blue ribbon negligently through your hair, it would give great effect to its jetty abundance. A little more animation in your manner, Bell, and a little less paleness, is to be desired. Yes, that blush has had great effect—now let us proceed, ere it vanishes."
They entered the drawing-room, and Christobelle's eyes first sought Sir John Spottiswoode. He was standing at the window, but he turned towards the ladies, as the little bustle of their entrance reached his ear, and advanced with alacrity. Lady Wetheral held out her hand. "I am much better, my dear Sir John—your countenance asks the question. I have had repose—perfect repose—and I am better. My daughter is my medicine." Her ladyship still held Christobelle's arm, and moved gracefully forward. "My lord, you are the bearer of Miss Ponsonby's wishes. My poor memory had parted with the recollection of your message yesterday, before my daughter's return."
Christobelle bowed to Lord Farnborough, and would have apologized for her absence the preceding day, by stating Sir John Spottiswoode's arrival, had not the attention of the latter been fixed upon her. She could perceive that he watched her narrowly, and that knowledge imparted an awkwardness to her manner which she could not shake off. Christobelle stopped abruptly in her speech, and hesitated. Lord Farnborough had greatly the advantage in perfect ease of manner. Christobelle felt her insufficiency, and it caused greater agitation—for what would Sir John Spottiswoode think of her folly?