Mrs. Rolleston, however, rapidly decided it would never do to encourage her to talk of the matter, and that she had better put her foot on it at once.
"I have guessed your little penchant, dear, for some one we won't talk about, for indeed, Bluebell, it never can come to any thing; you are both too young and too poor. It would be a most undesirable connexion."
"She doesn't think me grand enough for her brother," suggested Bluebell's wounded pride.
"And, therefore," pursued her Mentor, "absence is the best thing in these cases; and when you come back I trust you will have got rid of such hopeless fancies."
Bluebell was deeply mortified,—she lost all expectation of sympathy, and with a touch of pride, said,—"You must know best, Mrs. Rolleston, but I shall never care for any one else; and I must tell you honestly, I can't give it up if he doesn't."
"You will not see him at home?" said the elder lady, hastily. Such a gleam of hope irradiated Bluebell's face; she had never thought of that.
"Dear me, this is too bad!" continued the other, quite disheartened. "I shall take care you have no more opportunities of meeting here. Bluebell, do be warned. I only speak for your good."
"How self-interest deceives one," moralized the girl; "it is only because I am, as she says, 'a most undesirable connexion for her brother!'"
Cecil entered at this juncture, and Bluebell, hearing the Colonel's step also approaching, made a hasty escape from the room.
"What is the matter with her?" asked Cecil. "She brushed by me so suddenly, and looked so strange."