“Indeed she has, and a warm one, too,” replied Alice. “You must not judge of her as you now see her—that she is very volatile I acknowledge, but most affectionate and sincere.”
“I rejoice to hear you say so,” answered Wallace. “You know not, Miss Churchill, the ardor of my friend’s attachment. True love is always jealous—and you surely then cannot blame poor Frank, when, on his return from a long voyage, he hears of her only as the gayest among the gay, receiving with apparent pleasure the flatterer’s insidious praises!”
“She is not alone to blame, Mr. Wallace. Believe me, with all her seeming indifference, she is worthy the love of your friend,” said Alice.
“I surely can no longer doubt her worth when I find her so ably defended, and by so amiable a champion,” answered Wallace, bowing. “May I then ask you to deliver her this note, with which poor Frank, in an agony of jealous doubts, has entrusted me?”
Ere Alice could reply Mrs. Hazleton and Julia joined them. What could have brought such a glow to the cheek of Alice? thought her aunt—and Wallace, too, how animated! whose eyes were bent on the plain country-girl with an expression of admiration which caused the heart of this worldly woman to swell with envy and mortification. But dressing her countenance in well-feigned smiles, she exclaimed—
“Really, you seem to be having a very interesting discussion—I have been watching you some time. Come, I am dying to know what it is—and here is Julia, too, all curiosity.”
Wallace made some cool reply to Mrs. Hazleton, and then, turning to the latter, began conversing with her so entirely different from his former manner, that she was astonished. He was no longer the “petrifaction” she had pronounced him, but animated and agreeable. She little thought how much she was indebted to the praises of Alice for this change. Mrs. Hazleton noticed this also, and her jealous fears subsided. The deer is wounded at last! was her exulting conclusion.
That may be, my good madam—but the shaft may have sped from another source, nevertheless!
“Do come into my room,” said Julia to Alice, upon their return from Mrs. Dashwood’s party. “For mercy’s sake! let me get away from that Scotch bag-pipe ma’ma is ever sounding! One would think she was in love with Herman Wallace herself—but I’m sure I am not—though, just as plain as looks can speak, she tells him, ‘Here she is—you may have her for the asking.’ If this is Ninnybrain dignity, I beg to be excused from sharing it. I wonder what poor Frank would say? But how happy you look, Alice—what is the matter? After all, I believe poor ma’ma’s trouble has all been thrown away.
‘Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell—