In one sense Frederica’s trouble was over now. Her anger was over, and her rebellion; and in trying to speak cheerfully of their separation, for Selina’s sake, she did much to strengthen herself for the trial. Selina was startled and grieved at the thought of going away from her sisters, but she was gentle and yielding, as she always had been, and never doubted that their brother was wise and right in the plans he had made for them.
So she said “Good-bye,” cheerfully enough, and so did the others for that matter; but when she was gone, and Frederica found herself standing looking after the departing carriage, it seemed to her that the feeling of loss and loneliness was more than she could bear.
“And now we shall have our drive in the Park,” said Colonel Bentham cheerfully, as though nothing particular had happened, and Selina’s going away was an event of every-day occurrence. But Frederica stood very white and still.
“I am—tired—I think. If Tessie would go without me to-day,” said she with difficulty, but she walked very quietly by Captain Clare’s side till they came to the drawing-room door. “I think I must—rest for a little while. Will you excuse me to Colonel Bentham?”
She spoke quietly; but when she looked up and met the kind eyes that were looking down on her, she gave a little cry, and ran upstairs into her room, not at all sure that she was not rebellious and angry still. Tessie came in soon, all ready for the drive, and found her sister crying on the bed. She was quite inclined to feel aggrieved at the delay. She went at her sister’s entreaty to carry her excuses to Colonel Bentham. Her guardian seemed quite to understand, and they went out without her.
True to her determination to be good, Frederica did not long indulge her tears, and within the hour she came downstairs, and walking sedately into the drawing-room, found Captain Clare waiting for her. Her elaborate cheerfulness was quite as pathetic, he thought, as her grief had been, and so were her fears that her guardian might believe her to be ungrateful for his kindness. Captain Clare laughed at her a little.
“You speak as though you were a child to be punished for being naughty by being put in a corner,” said he. “Shall we go and walk? we may meet the carriage, and you can still have your drive.”
Frederica hesitated, but only a moment.
“You were reading,” said she.
“I was waiting for you, and now we must hasten, for the best of the afternoon is passing.”