Vivian said whatever he could to fortify this hope, and was glad to see Lord Glistonbury show feelings of this sort. The physician arrived, and confirmed these hopes by his favourable prognostics. In the course of the day and night her face, which had been contracted, resumed its natural appearance; she recovered the use of her arm: a certain difficulty of articulation, and thickness of speech, with what the physician called hallucination of mind, and a general feebleness of body, were all the apparent consequences of this stroke. She was not herself sensible of the nature of the attack, or clear in her ideas of any thing that had passed immediately previous to it. She had only an imperfect recollection of her daughter’s illness, and of some hurry about Mr. Vivian’s going away. She was, however, well enough to go into her dressing-room, where Vivian went to pay his respects to her, with Lord Glistonbury. By unremitting exertions, and unusual cheerfulness, Lady Sarah succeeded in quieting her mother’s confused apprehensions on her account. When out of Lady Glistonbury’s hearing, all the attendants and the physicians repeatedly expressed fear that Lady Sarah would over-fatigue and injure herself by this extraordinary energy; but her powers of body and mind seemed to rise with the necessity for exertion; and, on this great occasion, she suddenly discovered a warmth and strength of character, of which few had ever before discerned even the slightest symptoms.
“Who would have expected this from Sarah?” whispered Lord Glistonbury to Vivian. “Why, her sister did not do more for me when I was ill! I always knew she loved her mother, but I thought it was in a quiet, commonplace way—Who knows but she loves me too?—or might—” She came into the room at this moment—“Sarah, my dear,” said his lordship, “where are my letters and yesterday’s papers, which I never read?—I’ll see if there be any thing in them that can interest your mother.”
Lord Glistonbury opened the papers, and the first article of public news was, “a dissolution of parliament confidently expected to take place immediately.” This must put an end to Vivian’s scheme of going to town to attend his duty in parliament. “But, may be, it is only newspaper information.” It was confirmed by all Lord Glistonbury and Vivian’s private letters. A letter from his mother, which Vivian now for the first moment had time to peruse, mentioned the dissolution of parliament as certain; she named her authority, which could not be doubted; and, in consequence, she had sent down supplies of wine for an election; and she said that she would “be immediately at Castle Vivian, to keep open house and open heart for her son. Though not furnished,” she observed, “the castle would suit the better all the purposes of an election; and she should not feel any inconvenience, for her own part, let the accommodations be what they might.”
Lord Glistonbury directly proposed and insisted upon Lady Mary Vivian’s making Glistonbury her head-quarters. Vivian objected: Lady Glistonbury’s illness was an ostensible and, he hoped, would be a sufficient excuse for declining the invitation. But Lord Glistonbury persisted: “Lady Glistonbury, he was sure, would wish it—nothing would be more agreeable to her.” His lordship’s looks appealed to Lady Sarah, but Lady Sarah was silent; and, when her father positively required her opinion, by adding, “Hey! Sarah?” she rather discouraged than pressed the invitation. She said, that though she was persuaded her mother would, if she were well, be happy to have the pleasure of seeing Lady Mary Vivian; yet she could not, in her mother’s present situation, venture to decide how far her health might be able to stand any election bustle.
Lady Sarah said this with a very calm voice, but blushed extremely as she spoke; and, for the first time, Vivian thought her not absolutely plain; and, for the first time, he thought even the formality and deliberate coolness of her manner were not disagreeable. He liked her more, at this moment, than he had ever imagined it possible he could like Lady Sarah Lidhurst; but he liked her chiefly because she did not press him into her service, but rather forwarded his earnest wish to get away from Glistonbury.
Lord Glistonbury appealed to the physician, and asked whether company and amusement were not “the best things possible for his patient? Lady Glistonbury should not be left alone, surely! Her mind should be interested and amused; and an election would be a fortunate circumstance just at present!”
The physician qualified the assent which his lordship’s peremptory tone seemed to demand, by saying, “that certainly moderate amusement, and whatever interested without agitating her ladyship, would be salutary.” His lordship then declared that he would leave it to Lady Glistonbury herself to decide: quitting the end of the room where they were holding their consultation, he approached her ladyship to explain the matter. But Lady Sarah stopped him, beseeching so earnestly that no appeal might be made to her mother, that Vivian was quite moved; and he settled the business at once to general satisfaction, by declaring that, though neither he nor Lady Mary Vivian could think of intruding as inmates at present, yet that they should, as soon as Lady Glistonbury’s health would permit, be as much at Glistonbury Castle as possible; and that the short distance from his house would make it, he hoped, not inconvenient to his lordship for all election business. Lord Glistonbury acceded, and Lady Sarah appeared gratefully satisfied. His lordship, who always took the task of explanation upon himself, now read the paragraph about the dissolution aloud to Lady Glistonbury; informed her, that Lady Mary Vivian was coming immediately to the country; and that they should hope to see Lady Mary and Mr. Vivian almost every day, though he could not prevail upon them to take up their abode during the election at Glistonbury. Lady Glistonbury listened, and tried, and seemed to understand—bowed to Mr. Vivian and smiled, and said she remembered he was often at Glistonbury during the last election—that she was happy to hear she should have the pleasure to see Lady Mary Vivian—that some people disliked election times, but for her part she did not, when she was strong. Indeed, the last election she recollected with particular pleasure—she was happy that Lord Glistonbury’s interest was of service to Mr. Vivian. Then “she hoped his canvass to-day had been successful?”—and asked some questions that showed her mind had become confused, and that she was confounding the past with the present. Lady Sarah and Mr. Vivian said a few words to set her right—she looked first at one, and then at the other, listening, and then said—“I understand—God bless you both.” Vivian took up his hat, and looked out of the window, to see if his carriage was at the door.
“Mr. Vivian wishes you a good morning, madam,” said Lady Sarah: “he is going to Castle Vivian, to get things ready for Lady Mary’s arrival.”
“I wish you health and happiness, sir,” said Lady Glistonbury, attempting to rise, whilst some painful reminiscence altered her countenance.
“Pray do not stir, don’t disturb yourself, Lady Glistonbury. I shall pay my respects to your ladyship again as soon as possible.”