“I should not wonder if he has gone to ‘the Ferns,’” observed Mrs. Paine.
Isabel looked up. “What makes you think so, Fanny?” asked she.
“I heard him order his horse to be ready immediately after breakfast, and you know he left the table early.”
“Ah, I dare say he had business, and that brought him down into the country,” said Miss Barham, quietly; “he feels so much at home here, that as his own house is not habitable at present, he naturally resorts to ours, when he wants a brief habitation.”
From all which Hilary gathered, that when with the Barhams, either at the Abbey or elsewhere, he was accustomed generally to make himself agreeable.
“I wish something would happen!” said Dora, presently, with another yawn.
“What?” inquired Mrs. Paine.
“Oh, any thing, an event! something to rouse and excite one; to give one a fillip. I do not quite want an earthquake, but I should like something!”
“Poor child!” said Mrs. Paine, laughing; “it wants a new toy, or a nice cake.”
“No, it is sick of cakes, and tired of toys,” said Dora; “it wants good wholesome food, and a little work instead of play. I should like to lose my fortune, and have to work for my bread. I think I could be happy then.”