Mr. Hall, in her ideas, was a poor simpleton almost beneath her regard, and she would have taken no notice of him had it not been for his admiration of Anne. She could not bear another should receive worship while she was present. He was simply a being to be made useful, as in the instance of the skein of wool; though that little episode had in some slight measure induced her to think he was not quite such a Simon Pure as he looked, and although Mr. Hall on this occasion really exerted himself to be agreeable, the tangled mass lying in the sofa table drawer, was too recent an injury to be easily forgotten; and he only received monosyllables in reply to his remarks.
But he was not to be defeated. Anne had asked him to help her, and help her he would; so notwithstanding Frances' ungraciousness he talked on, and so engrossed her attention that he soon had the satisfaction of watching Anne's unobserved escape from the room, and of thinking that perhaps she would like him a little better for his clever management.
Alas! Anne had far too much curiosity to think of anything but gratifying that. Until that had been satisfied not a thought had she for anything else. Her inquisitiveness was as great almost as Frances' pride. There never was a plot concocted at home, or a pleasure planned as a surprise for her, but she had found out all about it before it was in a fair way of completion. Her sisters were constantly foreboding scrapes and troubles for her, but nothing as in this instance daunted her. She would not be baffled. She guessed from Frances' face that something had annoyed her; that trouble was in consequence in store for some one, and she was resolved to find out what that something was.
As she stood outside in the hall, she saw at a glance Frances' ghosts, and ever impulsive, was beside them in a moment.
"Good evening, Charles. There are at least a dozen cousins in there," and she pointed in the direction of the drawing-room, "waiting to say the same to you."
"Then let them wait, until I have warned and nerved myself to encounter such an immense array of females."
"Most men would have been roasted in less time; but you have had very pleasant company," and she glanced at Amy, "to perform your deed of martyrdom in."
"I had a cold ride," replied he drily, "and only arrived a short time ago from the Brampton Station."
"In these fast days even the clocks are somehow in the fashion, and go faster than they did formerly. I remember when I used to think half-an-hour an awful long time to wait for anybody, and I suspect Mrs. Linchmore's patience is fast evaporating."
"Nonsense! How should she know I have arrived?"