"Not at present; when George shall have grown strong again."
"Alnwick, his native air, might be the very place where he would grow strong," cried Rose, persistently. "Wouldn't I go to it if it were mine. Healthy or not healthy, I'd reign there, with the county at my feet."
She laughed merrily; Mrs. Darling seemed uneasy. Indeed, there is little doubt that the appearance of both Charlotte and the child had seriously disturbed her. She moved past the crimson sofa to the side of her daughter, who was still looking listlessly into the street below.
"Do you think it well, Charlotte, to abandon Alnwick Hall so entirely to servants? I don't."
"You may go and live in it yourself, mamma, if you choose. I'm sure I don't care who lives there. The servants keep it in order, I suppose--in readiness for my return? It is all my own now; that is, it's Georgy's; and I am responsible to no one."
She spoke quietly, indifferently, smoothing back the braids of her most luxuriant hair. But for the strange fire in her eyes, the consuming hectic of her cheek, it might have been affirmed that she took no interest in any earthly thing.
"I am glad to see you have left off your widow's caps, Charlotte," resumed her mother. "They always look sad upon a young woman."
"There was no help for leaving them off; we could not get any abroad. Prance contrived to manage them in some way as long as I wore them, but they were never tidy. Where's Honour?" she suddenly exclaimed, turning her eyes, ablaze with sudden angry fire, on Mrs. Darling.
Mrs. Darling positively recoiled. And some feeling, which she did not stay to account for, and perhaps could not have accounted for, prompted her to withhold the fact that Honour had been taken in at Castle Wafer.
"She procured some other situation, I believe, Charlotte, after quitting the Hall. I have never heard from her."