"But, mamma, I wish now it were Benja; I wish Georgy was as he used to be. I think a complete change of scene may do him good," she added after a pause, "and I shall take him abroad: immediately: for perhaps a year."
Mrs. Darling stood aghast. "But, what's to become of the Hall? what's to be done with it?"
"Anything," was the indifferent reply. "It is mine to do what I choose with--that is, it's Georgy's--and who is to question me? Live in it yourself, if you like; let it; leave servants in it; I don't care. Georgy is my only care now, mamma, and I shall take him abroad to get him strong."
Yes, Alnwick Hall and its broad acres were George's now, but they did not seem to have brought pleasure in their train. Was it that the almost invariable law of nature was obtaining in this case, and the apples, coveted, proved bitter ashes in possession? Charlotte St. John looked back to the days and nights of warfare with existing things, to the rebellion of her own spirit at her child's secondary position, to the vain, ardent longing that he should be the heir and supplant Benja. Well, she had her wish. But where was the pleasure she had looked forward to as in a vision, where the triumph? It had not come; it seemed to have vanished utterly and outwardly, even as had poor Benja. What was, what could be, the cause for this?
She crossed over at once to the Continent, hoping there to find relief for the new ailments of Georgy as for her own worn spirits; and Mrs. Darling went back to her cottage in dudgeon, and then took wing to her mother's to spend Christmas. And servants alone reigned at Alnwick Hall.
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
ADELINE DE CASTELLA.
Christmas came for other lands, just as surely as it did for England; and the young ladies of Madame de Nino's finishing establishment at Belport were gathered round the schoolroom stove on that festal morning. Rose Darling taking the best place as usual; and also, as usual, swaying all minds to her own imperious will. Rose was in a vile humour; believing herself to be the worst-used mortal in the world. She had fully reckoned on going home for Christmas--or at least into Berkshire; and Mrs. Darling's excuses about the uncertainty of her own movements only angered her the more.
"Don't bother here about your privileges and advantages!" she wrathfully exclaimed, elbowing the girls away from her, and tossing back her shower of golden curls. "What do the French know about keeping Christmas? France is a hundred years behind England in civilization, just as the French girls are behind us."
"Well done, Rose!" cried Adeline de Castella.