“My dear Ella,” said the mild old gentleman, mildly, and as if a sudden thought had struck him, “you know you were an old flame of Albert’s, and you know he is a very hot-headed fellow. I think you are playing with the fire.”
The very mildness of the old gentleman was like tinder to flames, in its effect. Ella answered insolently, and flirted out of the room. Under such circumstances, she thought the best way to convince Mr. Delano and his daughter that they had wronged her, was to show them that they had made her ill. She stayed in her room two whole days, and by great effort, refusing all food during that time, she succeeded pretty well. During the second day she wrote the following letter to Albert:
“Dearest Friend:—I am ill and suffering. It is useless to struggle against fate. No one cares for Ella but you—no one understands her—and they would have me think it wicked to see you. What does it matter that we know our love is pure? They will not believe it. Let us submit to fate, dear, dearest Albert. We had better not meet again, since we cannot be understood. Though it breaks my heart to say it, farewell forever!
“Your unhappy
“Ella.”
Whether Ella guessed what would be the result of this epistle or not, she felt she had done a sublime stroke of duty. She had bade him an eternal farewell, and if he did not abide by it, the fault was not hers. Albert, of course, flew to the rescue gallantly, and that no time should be lost, ordered the carriage for the purpose. He called for Ella, who refused to see him; whereupon he called for his sister, and expended considerable brotherly fury upon that staid maiden. She, on her side, told him some very unpalatable truths, and gave him some advice, which was yet more distasteful, and to which he replied angrily:
“You know no more of my wife than you do of Ella, whom you never understood.” Miss Delano gave her views of Ella’s character and general motives of conduct in most well bred but unmistakable terms, and ended by saying, “If Clara Forest is a woman to be deceived by Ella Wills, to ‘love’ her as you say, then I am fearfully mistaken in the woman. The truth is, you are using her love for you, to abuse her good sense.”
Albert did not fail to show that he had a profound contempt for such ideas of love as might be entertained by prudes and old maids, though he was too polite to use the latter term to any lady. People who are married are apt to think that only they have any understanding of love, just as parents presume that they are better qualified to bring up children from the fact of their maternity or paternity, than others who have no children; though all experience shows that the capacity to bear children, by no means implies the capacity to rear them properly.
In this encounter of brother and sister, Miss Charlotte manifested the calm dignity of one sure of her position, while Albert showed all the blustering, virtuous indignation of the guilty man; however, in the end he succeeded, not only in seeing Ella, but in bearing her away in triumph.
Clara was sufficiently surprised when he arrived with his charge, and supported her upstairs in an apparently dying condition, though she had contrived to look exceedingly interesting in a white cashmere wrapper, fastened at the throat by a huge scarlet ribbon, which made her pallor more noticeable by contrast. The old family physician, Dr. Hanaford, had been called in, but when he came the patient was gone. Mr. Delano advised him to follow her. This Dr. Hanaford was much inclined to do on learning that Albert was unaware that the family physician had been sent for; and further, he did not wish to trust his patient in the hands of young Dr. Delano, which proved that he did not understand the nature of her case. Arrived at Ella’s bedside, he examined her tongue, her pulse, and asked all the usual impertinent questions which doctors seldom omit, even when summoned to prescribe for a sty on the eyelid. Ella, who had never in her life been seriously ill, and knew well that she was not now, winced under the doctor’s examination into her case, the gravity of which he measured by his inability to comprehend it. By dint of nasty medicaments, a low diet, and close confinement, he succeeded in a few days in making Ella very comfortably ill, and she enjoyed greatly the care and anxiety of her friends. Clara was wholly deceived, and nursed Ella with the greatest care, but said nothing about her joining their summer excursion. This vexed Ella, who was determined that Clara should extend the invitation voluntarily. On the occasion of Dr. Hanaford’s next visit, he recommended change of air. “Oh, doctor, I can’t go anywhere,” she replied, languidly. “I don’t wish to move.”