And then followed a proposal which made Charlotte’s face flush with pleasure, and her eyes beam.
“Oh, how delightful it would be,” she whispered. “Oh, will papa and mamma let me?”
And scarcely waiting to finish the letter she flew to her mother in such a state of breathless excitement that Mrs Waldron scarcely recognised her quiet self-contained little daughter.
“It is very, very kind,” she said, when she had read what Charlotte eagerly pointed out.
“And may I go? Do you think papa would let me?” she exclaimed. “Oh, mamma, I would work so hard at French and music. You see Claudia says I could join in her lessons.”
“We must wait till your father comes home,” said Mrs Waldron. “But I should like it for you very much indeed.”
Mr Waldron had had a letter too—from Lady Mildred herself. She wrote earnestly begging her newly acknowledged cousin to bring his daughter, as well as Jerry, for a two or three months’ visit to her at Cannes.
“I beg you not to let the expense be any difficulty,” she said. “There are long arrears due to you which I can, alas, only indirectly make up. And I am most anxious, peculiarly so, that my dear little niece, Claudia Meredon, should make friends with your children. She will be speaking of this plan in more detail in her letter to your daughter.”
So it was decided, and a few days later Mr Waldron, accompanied by his two children, started for Cannes.
Jerry bore the journey fairly well, but he was very exhausted before they got to its end, and his father was thankful that Charlotte was with them. Some little time of anxiety about him followed, and he required much care and nursing to bring him round, though the doctor assured them that there was no serious cause for alarm and much for congratulation that the move southwards had not been delayed.