Ellen Adair looked up, faintly blushing at the abrupt charge, which came from Mrs. Cumberland.
"Listless!" exclaimed Ellen.
"My dear, it is nothing less. I don't think you care for Eastsea."
"Not very much. At least--it is rather dull."
"Well, I suppose you can only find it so; confined to the house half my time, as I am. At Niton you had often Captain Bohun to go out with; now you have to go out alone."
Ellen turned away, a soft blush rising to her face at the remembrance of Niton, "Shall you be going home soon, do you think, Mrs. Cumberland?" she asked.
"Oh dear no. I had a note from Jelly this morning, and she says the house is not half ready. Workpeople are so lazy! Once you get them into a place you can't get them out again. But if Jelly were ready for us I should still not go. This air is doing me good on the whole. Perhaps I shall remain the winter here."
Ellen's heart fell within her. All the autumn in this place, that verily seemed to her the fag end of the world, and all the winter! Should she ever again get the chance of seeing her heart's love, Arthur Bohun? And he?--perhaps he was forgetting her.
"Do you feel well enough to come out, Mrs. Cumberland?"
"No. I am sorry, Ellen, but you must go alone. Put on your things at once, child: the afternoon will be passing."