“He has it still, then?”
“At night and morning. They went last week to spend the day with Miss Carlyle, and were a little late in returning home. It was foggy, and the boy coughed dreadfully after he came in. Mr. Carlyle was so concerned that he left the dinner table and went up to the nursery; he gave Joyce strict orders that the child should never again be out in the evening so long as the cough was upon him. We had never heard him cough like that.”
“Do you fear consumption?” asked Lady Isabel, in a low tone.
“I do not fear that, or any other incurable disease for them,” answered Barbara. “I think, with Mr. Wainwright, that time will remove the cough. The children come of a healthy stock on the father’s side; and I have no reason to think they do not on their mother’s. She died young you will say. Ay, but she did not die of disease; her death was the result of accident. Mrs. Latimer wrote us word you were of gentle birth and breeding,” she continued, changing the subject of conversation. “I am sure you will excuse my speaking of these particulars,” Barbara added, in a tone of apology, “but this is our first interview—our preliminary interview, it may in a measure be called, for we could not say much by letter.”
“I was born and reared a gentlewoman,” answered Lady Isabel.
“Yes, I am sure of it; there is no mistaking the tone of a gentlewoman,” said Barbara. “How sad it is when pecuniary reverses fall upon us! I dare say you never thought to go out as a governess.”
A half smile positively crossed her lips. She think to go out as a governess!—the Earl of Mount Severn’s only child! “Oh, no, never,” she said, in reply.
“Your husband, I fear, could not leave you well off. Mrs. Latimer said something to that effect.”
“When I lost him, I lost all,” was the answer. And Mrs. Carlyle was struck with the wailing pain betrayed in the tone. At that moment a maid entered.
“Nurse says the baby is undressed, and quite ready for you ma’am,” she said, addressing her mistress.