“I am very sorry for Lennox,” said Louise, simply. “But for his sake, her being away for a while may be better. I think he is accepting the thing—but still her being away would make it easier. And then he need not leave off coming about us as usual. We should miss him, and it would be hard upon him, for he is rather lonely.”
“It has been hard upon him already. Yes, if I could think Winifred would have enough of it in a while, as you say, Louise! But she seems already to have got one foot into that half-Bohemian society she has always been longing for. I cannot think how she has managed it from so solid a house as the Baldersons’! Her letter is full of some singer—a Miss Norreys—whom she has taken a perfect ‘furore’ for, and who, she says, has been most kind in helping her. Really, as if the child were a poor little governess! And to think of all the responsibilities awaiting her here—of all that must be hers some day! No, I cannot see how Winifred can blind herself to the duties so distinctly hers. And she will fall more and more out of it all. She will know nothing about the property or its management.”
“But, mamma dear, we may hope that papa will live a great many years. He is no worse than ten years ago. And Winifred may fall in love and marry some day. It would do her all the good in the world,” said Louise.
“Some actor or singer, perhaps,” said her mother. “I should be thankful she has no taste for the stage, and no special musical talent, for there is no knowing what she might not have wished to do in such a case.”
“The Baldersons are very musical. I suppose that is how Winifred has met Miss Norreys. Celia speaks of her too. She says she is really quite charming, and that Winifred can get nothing but good from her. But what it is that she is ‘helping’ Winifred about, Celia does not say.”
“I wish we could see her—this Miss Norreys, I mean,” said Mrs Maryon. “She seems to be acquiring so much influence over Winifred.”
“I have heard her name, I am sure,” said Louise. “Well, anyway, mother dear, we shall know all about it in a few hours. So try not to worry in the meantime. Shall I go up to papa now? Will he be ready for me?”
For to a great extent Louise acted as her father’s secretary, and the post was no sinecure.
“Mr Peckerton is coming this afternoon,” said Mrs Maryon, “and that always tires your father. Make him do as little as possible beforehand. Perhaps you had better run up to him now, and talk the day over. I shall be busy too—the vicar is coming about the new schoolmistress.”
“And there are all the Christmas presents for the children to go over,” said Louise. “I am thankful Celia is coming back.”