“No, to your brother.”
“You wish this much, Mamma?”
“Very much, my child.”
“I will try to please you, then.” And stifling a sigh, the girl kissed her mother with unwonted meekness in tone and manner.
“Now I am well pleased. Be happy, my love. No one will urge or distress you. Let matters take their course, and if this hope of ours can be fulfilled, I shall be relieved of the chief care of my life.”
A sound of girlish voices here broke on their ears, and springing up, Octavia hurried to meet her friends, exclaiming joyfully, “They have come! they have come!”
Two smiling, blooming girls met her at the door, and, being at an enthusiastic age, they gushed in girlish fashion for several minutes, making a pretty group as they stood in each other's arms, all talking at once, with frequent kisses and little bursts of laughter, as vents for their emotion. Madame Mère welcomed them and then went to join Mrs. Snowdon, leaving the trio to gossip unrestrained.
“My dearest creature, I thought we never should get here, for Papa had a tiresome dinner party, and we were obliged to stay, you know,” cried Rose, the lively sister, shaking out the pretty dress and glancing at herself in the mirror as she fluttered about the room like a butterfly.
“We were dying to come, and so charmed when you asked us, for we haven't seen you this age, darling,” added Blanche, the pensive one, smoothing her blond curls after a fresh embrace.
“I'm sorry the Ulsters couldn't come to keep Christmas with us, for we have no gentlemen but Jasper, Frank Annon, and the major. Sad, isn't it?” said Octavia, with a look of despair, which caused a fresh peal of laughter.