“He would, I daresay, have deferred his visit to town and accompanied yourself and Sir Thomas to the Isle of Wight. He is always so kind and unselfish,” remarked Miss Winter, not without a feeble hope that his mother would propose recalling the young man, who had only the day before left for town.
“And do you think I would have allowed such a thing?” exclaimed Lady Frederica virtuously. “Do you think I would have dreamt of letting Trevor make such a sacrifice? You forget, Miss Winter, it is not the beginning of the season—there is no question of deferring his stay in town. He has had a very dull year, poor boy; of course, if his marriage had been fixed for next month as we once expected, it would all have been different. I wish it had been. We should not have been leaving home so soon, and most likely in that case—things always happen so—your poor sister would not have been ill.”
Truly, Cicely Methvyn had little notion of how much she was responsible for!
The mention of Mr. Fawcett’s marriage sent Miss Winter’s thoughts off to Greystone. Thence they brought back a brilliant suggestion.
“My dear Lady Frederica,” she exclaimed rapturously. “An idea occurs to me. Suppose you were to invite that pretty, sweet Mademoiselle Casalis to accompany you? I feel sure you would find her a charming companion, and it would be such a pleasure to her to be able to talk about her home to you, who have been so much on the Continent.”
Lady Frederica sat straight up on her sofa in excitement.
“Do you think she would like to come?” she said doubtfully. “I wonder if Helen would like it.”
“I am sure Miss Casalis would like to come. It was only the other day she confided to me that she does find life at the Abbey rather dull—triste, she called it, poor girl. She begged me not to repeat it, for fear, she said, of seeming ungrateful to her kind friends. And I feel sure Mrs. Methvyn would feel pleased by the invitation—Miss Casalis being her relation.”
Lady Frederica’s excitement increased.
“Will you write a note to her at once, Miss Winter, and send one of the men with it?” she said. “Or, stay, perhaps the note should be to Helen—or, must I write my self? I do so hate writing notes, and there would be such a great deal to explain—all about your poor sister’s illness, and apologies for the short invitation and all. I really don’t feel equal to it.”