The Clever Woman of the Family

"If Conrade knew it, which I trust he never will, he ought to esteem it

a testimony to his mother."

"Oh, no, for it must have been my fault! I always was so childish, and

when I've got my boys with me, I can't help being happy," and the tears

swelled again in her eyes. "I know I have not been as sad and serious as

my aunt thought I ought to be, and now this comes of it."

"You have been true, have acted nothing," said Colonel Keith, "and that

is best of all. No one who really knew you could mistake your feelings.

No doubt that your conduct agrees better with what would please our dear

Sir Stephen than if you drooped and depressed the children."

"Oh, I am glad you say that," she said, looking up, flushed with

pleasure now, and her sweet eyes brimming over. "I have tried to think

what he would like in all I have done, and you know I can't help being

proud and glad of belonging to him still; and he always told me not to

be shy and creeping into the nursery out of every one's way."

The tears were so happy now that he felt that the wound was healed, and

that he might venture to leave her, only asking first, "And now what

would you like me to do? Shall I try to persuade my brother to come away

from this place?"

"Oh, but then every one would find out why, and that would be dreadful!

Besides, you are only just come. And Miss Williams--"

"Do not let that stand in your way."

"No, no. You will be here to take care of me. And his going now would

make people guess; and that would be worse than anything."

"It would. The less disturbance the better; and if you upset his plans

now, he might plead a sort of right to renew the attempt later. Quiet

indifference will be more dignified and discouraging. Indeed, I little

thought to what I was exposing you. Now I hope you are going to rest, I

am sure your head is aching terribly."

She faintly smiled, and let him give her his arm to the foot of the

stairs.

At first he was too indignant for any relief save walking up and down

the esplanade, endeavouring to digest the unfairness towards himself

of his brother's silence upon views that would have put their joint

residence at Avonmouth on so different a footing; above all, when the

Temple family were his own peculiar charge, and when he remembered how

unsuspiciously he had answered all questions on the money matters,

and told how all was left in the widow's own power. It was the more

irritating, as he knew that his displeasure would be ascribed to

interested motives, and regarded somewhat as he had seen Hubert's

resentment treated when Francis teased his favourite rabbit. Yet not

only on principle, but to avoid a quarrel, and to reserve to himself

such influence as might best shield Lady Temple from further annoyance,

he must school himself to meet his brother with coolness and patience.

It was not, however, without strong effort that he was able to perceive

that, from the outer point of view, one who, when a mere child, had

become the wife of an aged general, might, in her early widowhood, be

supposed open to the addresses of a man of higher rank and fewer years,

and the more as it was not in her nature to look crushed and pathetic.

He, who had known her intimately throughout her married life and in her

sorrow, was aware of the quiet force of the love that had grown up with

her, so entirely a thread in her being as to crave little expression,

and too reverent to be violent even in her grief. The nature, always

gentle, had recovered its balance, and the difference in years had no

doubt told in the readiness with which her spirits had recovered their

cheerfulness, though her heart remained unchanged. Still, retired as her

habits were, and becoming as was her whole conduct, Colin began to

see that there had been enough of liveliness about her to lead to Lord

Keith's mistake, though not to justify his want of delicacy in the

precipitation of his suit.