"Never mind, Miss Wetheral; my mother and Sophia will nurse me well at Alverton."
"At Alverton!" exclaimed Christobelle, in astonishment, "at Alverton!"
"Why not, Miss Wetheral?" he asked in low tones, and his fine dark eyes were fixed upon her with such deep expression!
"Oh, no, if you are ill, I will nurse you; and Fairlee shall be your——."
Christobelle stopped: her heart beat thickly—she could not speak the conclusion of her sentence—a weight, as of iron, bore down her eyelids, and she remained silent.
"You have been happy to-day, my pupil?" said Sir John Spottiswoode, after a moment's pause.
Christobelle waved her hand silently. She could not trust her voice; but Fanny Ponsonby was talking to Lord Farnborough, and she was wretched at the allusion to Alverton. Curiosity, anxiety, and the horrors of suspense, gave her courage to address her companion again; and she asked, in the recklessness of despair, why he contemplated returning so soon into Shropshire.
"Because," he said, "Lochleven is now a fever spot upon my heart."
Christobelle wept silently. Captain Ponsonby sat in the stern of the boat without speaking, as though even his gay spirit could not resist the heavy rain, and every one appeared to be cold, weary, and dispirited. Except Fanny Ponsonby's voice, which sung, in low tones, a plaintive air, not a sound escaped the party till they reached the shore; and then commenced another disagreeable contention between Lord Farnborough and Captain Ponsonby.
"Miss Wetheral, I claim you this time," said his lordship, hastily passing Fanny Ponsonby, and offering his hand.