THE letters were brought in; one was to Vizard, from Herries, announcing a remittance; one to Lord Uxmoor. On reading it, he was surprised into an exclamation, and his face expressed great concern.
"Oh!" said Zoe-- "Harrington!"
Harrington's attention being thus drawn, he said, "No bad news, I hope?""Yes," said Uxmoor, in a low voice, "very bad. My oldest, truest, dearest friend has been seized with small-pox, and his life is in danger. He has asked for me, poor fellow. This is from his sister. I must start by the twelve o'clock train.""Small-pox! Why, it is contagious," cried Fanny; "and so disfiguring!""I can't help that," said the honest fellow; and instantly rang the bell for his servant, and gave the requisite orders.
Zoe, whose eye had never left him all the time, said, softly, "It is brave and good of you. We poor, emotional, cowardly girls should sit down and cry."_"You_ would not, Miss Vizard," said he, firmly, looking full at her. "If you think you would, you don't know yourself."Zoe colored high, and was silent.
Then Lord Uxmoor showed the true English gentleman. "I do hope," said he, earnestly, though in a somewhat broken voice, "that you will not let this spoil the pleasure we had planned together. Harrington will be my deputy.""Well, I don't know," said Harrington, sympathizingly. Mr. Severne remarked, "Such an occurrence puts pleasure out of one's head." This he said, with his eyes on his plate, like one repeating a lesson. "Vizard, Ientreat you," said Uxmoor, almost vexed. "It will only make me more unhappy if you don't.""We will go," cried Zoe, earnestly; "we promise to go. What does it matter? We shall think of you and your poor friend wherever we are. And Ishall pray for him. But, ah, I know how little prayers avail to avert these cruel bereavements." She was young, but old enough to have prayed hard for her sick mother's life, and, like the rest of us, prayed in vain. At this remembrance the tears ran undisguised down her cheeks.
The open sympathy of one so young and beautiful, and withal rather reserved, made Lord Uxmoor gulp, and, not to break down before them all, he blurted out that he must go and pack: with this he hurried away.
He was unhappy. Besides the calamity he dreaded, it was grievous to be torn away from a woman he loved at first sight, and just when she had come out so worthy of his love: she was a high-minded creature; she had been silent and reserved so long as the conversation was trivial; but, when trouble came, she was the one to speak to him bravely and kindly.
Well, what must be, must. All this ran through his mind, and made him sigh; but it never occurred to him to shirk--to telegraph instead of going--nor yet to value himself on his self-denial.
They did not see him again till he was on the point of going, and then he took leave of them all, Zoe last. When he came to her, he ignored the others, except that he lowered his voice in speaking to her. "God bless you for your kindness, Miss Vizard. It is a little hard upon a fellow to have to run away from such an acquaintance, just when I have been so fortunate as to make it.""Oh, Lord Uxmoor," said Zoe, innocently, "never mind that. Why, we live in the same county, and we are on the way home. All I think of is your poor friend; and do please telegraph--to Harrington."He promised he would, and went away disappointed somehow at her last words.
When he was gone, Severne went out on the balcony to smoke, and Harrington held a council with the young ladies. "Well, now," said he, "about this trip to the lake.""I shall not go, for one," said Zoe, resolutely.
"La!" said Fanny, looking carefully away from her to Harrington; "and she was the one that insisted."Zoe ignored the speaker and set her face stiffly toward Harrington. "She only _said_ that to _him."__Fanny._ "But, unfortunately, ears are not confined to the noble."_Zoe._ "Nor tongues to the discreet."
Both these remarks were addressed pointedly to Harrington.
"Halloo!" said he, looking from one flaming girl to the other; "am I to be a shuttlecock, and your discreet tongues the battledoors? What is up?""We don't speak," said the frank Zoe; "that is up.""Why, what is the row?"'
"No matter" (stiffly).
"No great matter, I'll be bound. 'Toll, toll the bell.' Here goes one more immortal friendship--quenched in eternal silence."Both ladies bridled. Neither spoke.
"And dead silence, as ladies understand it, consists in speaking _at_ one another instead of _to."_No reply.
"That is well-bred taciturnity."
No answer.
"The dignified reserve that distinguishes an estrangement from a squabble."No reply.
"Well, I admire permanent sentiments, good or bad; constant resolves, etc. Your friendship has not proved immortal; so, now let us see how long you can hold spite--SIEVES!" Then he affected to start. "What is this? Ispy a rational creature out on yonder balcony. I hasten to join him.
'Birds of a feather, you know;" and with that he went out to his favorite, 'and never looked behind him.
The young ladies, indignant at the contempt the big man had presumed to cast upon the constant soul of woman, turned two red faces and four sparkling eyes to each other, with the instinctive sympathy of the jointly injured; but remembering in time, turned sharply round again, and presented napes, and so sat sullen.
By-and-by a chilling thought fell upon them both at the same moment of time. The men were good friends as usual, safe, by sex, from tiffs, and could do without them; and a dull day impended over the hostile fair.
Thereupon the ingenious Fanny resolved to make a splash of some sort and disturb stagnation. She suddenly cried out, "La! and the man is gone away: so what is the use?" This remark she was careful to level at bare space.
Zoe, addressing the same person--space, to wit--inquired of him if anybody in his parts knew to whom this young lady was addressing herself.
"To a girl that is too sensible not to see the folly of quarreling about a man--_when he is gone,"_ said Fanny.
