Hilary felt doubtful about accepting the invitation, anxious as she was to see Dora; but a little postscript to Isabel’s note, not at first discovered, compelled them to decide in favor of going; it was to the effect that Mr. Barham desired to see Mr. Duncan on business, which could not be discussed in a morning visit; so an answer was written, agreeing to the proposal. Her sisters all declared it was nonsense of Hilary being so unwilling to go; it would be very pleasant; the Abbey was, probably, full of pleasant people, besides Isabel and Dora, and Mr. and Mrs. Paine, who, it was known, had gone over on Monday, and were to stay till Saturday. What more could she want to be sure of an agreeable visit?
She could only repeat that she had preferred their society to any the Abbey could promise, and that home was pleasanter than any other place; at which her sisters only laughed, and said “Let her try.”
To the Abbey they went, arriving there, by particular desire, in time for the two o’clock luncheon; and there they found assembled, besides Mr. Barham and his two daughters, only the Paines and another gentleman, a young clergyman, whose personal appearance immediately attracted Hilary’s notice; he being the first individual of a peculiar class with whom she had as yet met. There was something odd in the arrangement of his hair, in the appearance of his neck-cloth, and in the shape of his coat-collar, which gave an idea of singularity rather than sanctity, and made her more inclined to wonder at than admire him.
She had not much time, however, to form conjectures relative to this gentleman, for the young ladies almost entirely engrossed her. Each, in her different way, appeared delighted to see her again, and really Isabel’s more measured accents, and stately welcomes, were hardly less kind and cordial than the mine caressante and endearing words of Dora, who scarcely knew whether to laugh or cry at meeting, and could not express her affection and joy with sufficient emphasis to please herself.
The afternoon was fine, although it was mid-winter, and the ladies, having seen the four gentlemen adjourn to Mr. Barham’s private sitting-room, determined to go out for a refreshing walk. The sun was just setting in a clear green and amber sky, the air was sharp and frosty, with scarcely a cloud visible over-head to dim the beautiful half-moon hanging in the eastern heaven; there was no wind to make it feel cold, and the ladies soon walked themselves into warmth and spirits, such as can only be known to those who are blessed with health and strength to enable them to enjoy active exercise in the free air.
“Now, Hilary,” said Dora, as they turned their faces homeward, and slackened their walk into a comfortable strolling pace, “have you the least idea why papa sent for you?”
“Some kind of business with my father, I know,” replied Miss Duncan, quietly; while Isabel exclaimed,
“Dora, how you talk! I wanted to see you, Hilary.”
“So did I,” replied Dora, “but not a bit would that have availed, had not papa had business; it is about that Mr. Ufford, you know!”
“Dora, how can you interfere! do, Fanny, tell all about it, for really Dora ought not,” again exclaimed Isabel, a little impatiently.