“No, no, Mairi,” her companion said, taking her hand, “it was not you. Mrs. Lavender, Mairi does not understand our way of joking in London. Perhaps she will learn before she goes back to the Highlands.”
“There is one thing,” said Mrs. Lavender, observing that Mairi’s eyes had filled the moment she was charged with bringing trouble on Sheila—“there is one thing you people from the Highlands seem never disposed to learn, and that is to have a little control over your passions. If one speaks to you a couple of words, you either begin to cry or go off into a flash of rage. Don’t you know how bad that is for the health?”
“And yet,” said Sheila with a smile—and it seemed so strange to Mairi to see her smile—“we will not compare badly in health with the people about us here.”
Mrs. Lavender dropped the question, and began to explain to Sheila what she advised her to do. In the meantime both the girls were to remain in her house. She would guarantee their being met by no one. When suitable rooms had been looked out by Paterson, they were to remove thither. The whole situation of affairs was at once perceived by Mrs. Lavender’s attendant, who was given to understand that no one was to know of young Mrs. Lavender’s being in the house. Then the old woman, much contented with what she had done, resolved that she would reward herself with a joke, and sent for Edward Ingram.
When Sheila, as already described, came into the room, and found her old friend there, the resolution she had formed went clean out of her mind. She forgot entirely the ban that had been placed on Ingram by her husband. But after her first emotion on seeing him was over, and when he began to discuss what she ought to do, and even to advise her in a diffident sort of way, she remembered all that she had forgotten, and was ashamed to find herself sitting there and talking to him as if it were in her father’s house at Borva. Indeed, when he proposed to take the management of her affairs into his own hands, and to go and look at certain apartments that Paterson had proposed, she was forced, with great heart-burning and pain, to hint to him that she could not avail herself of his kindness.
“But why?” he asked, with a stare of surprise.
“You remember Brighton,” she answered, looking down. “You had a bad return for your kindness to me then.”
“Oh, I know,” he said carelessly. “And I suppose Mr. Lavender wished you to cut me after my impertinent interference. But things are very much changed now. But for the time he went North, he has been with me nearly every hour since you left.”
“Has Frank been to the Lewis?” she said suddenly, with a look of fear on her face.
“Oh, no; he had only been to Glasgow to see if you had gone to catch the Clansman and go North from there.”