Then Ralph roused himself and set out for a solitary walk. He went first in the direction of Mrs. Archer’s house, intending to enquire at the door if she were better, without going in. But as he entered the street in which it was situated, he met Charlie and Thérèse, from whom he obtained the information that Madame was much better, so much better that Mademoiselle was going to let her get up this afternoon.
Sir Ralph expressed his gratification at the good news.
“Be sure you tell your mamma, Charlie,” said he, “that I was coming to ask for her, when I met you. And give her my very kind regards, and say I hope she will soon be quite well.”
“I’ll remember,” said Charlie, “werry kind regards, and hopes she’ll soon be well. And what am I so say to Madymuzelle, that’s May, you know? What am I to say to her? Best love, that’s prettier than kind regards. I always send my best love.”
“Do you?” said Ralph, “but you see you’re a little chap. Best love isn’t half so pretty when people are big.”
“Isn’t it?” said the child dubiously. But Ralph patted his cheek, and walked on.
As he drew near Mrs. Archer’s house he saw a gentleman come out of it, and walk on in front of him. It was Captain Berwick. He had only been leaving some books at the door, which his sister had sent to amuse the invalid, but this, of course, Ralph could not know; and, though he thought he had suffered in these two days all that was possible to endure, he found that the sight of his successful rival’s quitting the house after enjoying, in all probability, a tête-à-tête with Marion, added a fresh pang to all he had already undergone.
Frank had not seen him, and he might easily have escaped his notice, but a strange impulse urged him forward. He walked rapidly, and overtook him just as he reached the corner of the street. The young man looked surprised, but responded cordially enough to his greeting.
“So you’re back again at Altes,” said Ralph, for want of anything better to say.
Frank did not deny the fact.