“You have chosen your text well,” replied Hilary, receiving the basket from his hands, and raising first one and then another
of the delicate bells. “They do indeed preach eloquently. Thank you very much for so kindly reminding me of all these flowers bid me consider.”
He gave her a quiet, rather grave smile; and then turned the conversation to some other topic, as they walked into the house together.
He seemed very happy afterward, assisting Gwyneth and Nest in preparing the flower-pots in which these lilies were to be planted, while Hilary sat with her father at the window, and gave her advice on the subject, but was not allowed by any of them to tire herself over the plants, as she had taken a long walk that morning, and was looking, they all agreed, both pale and fatigued.
Mr. Huyton did not come to the Vicarage again for two or three days; he was supposed to be occupied by his visitors, who, they heard from Mr. Paine, had arrived when expected.
To Hilary’s great satisfaction, Mrs. Paine offered to accompany her to “the Ferns” to call on these visitors, a task which, for several reasons, was rather a formidable undertaking to her. They drove over together, in Mrs. Paine’s little pony-carriage, and were received at the door of the large house with a degree of splendor and pomp such as she had never seen there before.
Hilary thought of her first visit to that place, and the quiet way in which she had then been introduced, as they followed the servants through the spacious vestibules and ante-chambers into the morning sitting-room, where Mrs. Fielding and her daughter were sitting. Happily for them, Charles entered as they did, and he introduced Mrs. Paine pointedly as his cousin; Miss Duncan was more slightly named, but it was evident, by the quick glance which Miss Fielding gave, that her visitor was an object of some interest to her. The elder lady was equally foreign in her look and her accent, both which betrayed her birth, although perfectly lady-like, and rather pleasing; the cousin, in whom Hilary felt more interest, was a handsome girl, more English than German in her air and voice, and looking so perfectly at home at “the Ferns,” that Miss Duncan could not
get the idea out of her head that she was consciously destined one day to be mistress there.
“Victoria has been wanting you so much, Charles,” said Mrs. Fielding, turning to her nephew, who was standing by Mrs. Paine. “It was something about the drawing she was copying; I hope presently you will help her out of her difficulties.”
Mr. Huyton said something about happy, and turned to his cousin with a smile; but Hilary, who unconsciously watched the expression of his face, was disappointed: it was not exactly the smile she wished to see there—not like the happy, frank look she had been used so often to receive, before she learned to know its meaning.