"Any misunderstanding or unpleasantness."
"I should say not," returned Miss Blake, with some acrimony. "It is rather the other way. Lucy is blindly, absurdly infatuated with Sir Karl. If he boxed her on the one ear, she would offer him the other."
"It cannot be that, then," sighed Mrs. Cleeve. "I only thought of it because there was nothing else I could think of. For I cannot help fancying, Theresa, that the malady is on her spirits, more than on her health. I--I wonder whether that ague-fever left unsuspected consequences behind it that are developing themselves now?"
Theresa, her attention given to the employment in her hand--a cross she was working in gold thread to adorn some part or other of Mr. Cattacomb's canonicals--a great deal more than it was given to the conversation, allowed the doubt to pass undiscussed. Mrs. Cleeve had always been accustomed to worry herself over Lucy: Theresa supposed it was the habit of mothers to do so, who had only one daughter. So the subject of Lucy's looks dropped for the time.
"What is that for?" resumed Mrs. Cleeve, directing her attention to the small gold cords.
"This? Oh, a little ornament I am making. Please don't touch it, Mrs. Cleeve, or you will entangle the threads."
Thus rebuked, Mrs. Cleeve sat for some moments in silence, inhaling the fresh air through the open window, and the perfume of the late flowers. The mignonette, in its large clusters, seemed as though it intended to bloom on until winter.
"Theresa, how much longer do you intend to remain here?" she suddenly asked. "Your stay has been a very long one."
Theresa was aware of that. She was slightly suspicious that Sir Karl and his wife had begun to think the same thing, though in their courtesy they were not likely to let it appear. In truth the matter was causing her some little reflection: for she would willingly have made the Court her permanent home. While Mr. Cattacomb remained at St. Jerome's, she should remain. It might have been somewhat of a mistake to institute St. Jerome's, and to bring Mr. Cattacomb to it: Miss Blake could recognise it now: but as that step had been taken, she could only abide by it.
"I am not likely to leave at present," she replied. "It would be very dull for Lucy to be here without me. As the winter weather comes on, my out-door duties will be somewhat curtailed, and I shall be able to give her more of my time. Lucy would be lost by herself, Mrs. Cleeve. She was always rather given to moping."