Very fresh, and very handsome, too, she looked, with the bright color which exercise had brought into her cheeks, and the happy expression which a conviction that her sister was now doing very well, produced; and her perfect unconsciousness that Mr. Farrington’s visit was made for her sake, or that his eyes were incessantly attracted to her in admiration, greatly heightened her charms in his opinion. He tried to detain her in conversation; but no sooner was the luncheon finished, than she again withdrew, and remained invisible for the next hour.
It was not Mr. Farrington’s conversational powers which brought her down at last, but the arrival of her own family,
with Charles Huyton. No sooner did she see the carriage at a little distance, than she ran hastily down stairs, and was on the steps to receive her father when it drew up, quite regardless of all the state formalities of porter, butler, or footman, who had to stand off to make way for her.
Charles sprang out first, and his inquiries of “How is she now? How is Hilary?” were hardly less earnest and eager than those of Gwyneth and Maurice. But Sybil had scarcely words to answer them: it was to her father she looked, of him she thought; and when, by the assistance of his son and host, the clergyman had been safely placed upon the broad steps, she threw herself into his arms, and in accents choking from delight, she whispered that Hilary was better, Dr. Pilgrim had just seen her, and said she was out of danger.
Mr. Farrington, who was standing near enough to see the meeting, thought he had never witnessed a more touching sight, than the glad thankfulness of the young people, and the deep, reverend gratitude of the father, as he raised his hat from his head, and uttered audible thanks for this joyful tidings. Mr. Huyton himself was in a state of excitement most visible to a calm looker-on; he shook hands ardently with Mr. Duncan, kissed the hands of Sybil and Gwyneth with most un-English grace, and as to Nest, he caught her up in his arms and almost smothered her with caresses, the overflowings of a full-hearted happiness.
They became rational at last, and moved into the house. It was necessary that Miss Duncan should still be kept quiet; but, under promise of silence and discretion, Gwyneth was permitted to take her sister’s place in watching the invalid, and Sybil was able to devote herself to her father.
Mr. Farrington’s wish of being introduced to the clergyman was gratified, and he found the next hour spent in conversing with him, and looking at Sybil, so very pleasant, that he heard with great regret the announcement of the arrival of Mr. Barham and his daughter. This brought back Charles Huyton and Maurice into the saloon, they having been pacing on
the terrace, and discussing the wishes of the latter to sail with Captain Hepburn, in which Mr. Huyton very cordially joined.
Dora’s vail and bonnet hid her face from her father when she spoke to Maurice, and after a few fluttered sentences, she turned to Sybil, and asked if she might not go up stairs and see Gwyneth for a minute; so the two girls left the room together, with a word of apology to Victoria. Then Mr. Barham expressed a strong wish to see some alterations Mr. Huyton was making in his hot-houses, and Isabel said she should like to accompany them; Victoria politely offered to go with her, and as Charles seemed to regret leaving Mr. Duncan, both Maurice and Mr. Farrington volunteered to remain with him; while Mrs. Fielding, just then entering the room, declared it was her peculiar right to wait on and attend to him, when he was at “the Ferns.”
Had Mr. Barham and Isabel intended to do what was most pleasant, but least profitable, to Dora and Maurice, they could hardly have arranged better. Sybil and her friend returned to the saloon, to find the party very much reduced; and as Mrs. Fielding was as good as her word, and entirely engrossed Mr. Duncan, Mr. Farrington enticed Sybil to sit down with him by the portfolio before alluded to, to tell him more about the beautiful sketches it contained; and she, quite unaware how little he had cared for them when only Victoria had turned them over, very good-naturedly complied with his request, and discussed the times and places where the sketches had been drawn, with such amusing vivacity, and in such graphic language, that he did not discover how time slipped by while so employed.