May dear,” said Claire, kissing her sister affectionately, but with a grave pained look in her eyes, “I am so glad to see you. I was wishing you would come. Papa will be so disappointed: he has gone up the town to see the tailor about Morton.”
“What, does that boy want new clothes again? Papa did not say so.”
“Have you seen him, then?”
“Yes. How well he looks. But why did you want to see me?”
For answer Claire took her sister’s hand, led her to the chintz-covered sofa, and seated herself beside her, with her arm round May’s waist.
“Oh, do be careful, Claire,” said Mrs Burnett pettishly; “this is my lute-string. And, my dear, how wretchedly you do dress in a morning.”
“It is good enough for home, dear, and we are obliged to be so careful. May dear, I hardly like to ask you, but could you spare me a guinea or two?”
“Spare you a guinea or two? Why, bless the child! what can you want with a guinea or two?”
“I want it for Morton. There are several things he needs so much, and I want besides to be able to let him have a little pocket-money when he asks.”
“Oh, really, I cannot, Claire. It is quite out of the question. Frank keeps me so dreadfully short. You would never believe what trouble I have to get a few guineas from him when I am going out, and there is so much play now that one is compelled to have a little to lose. But I must be off. I have some shopping to do, and a call or two to make besides. Then there is a book to get at Miss Clode’s. I won’t ask you to come for a drive this morning.”
“No, dear, don’t. But stay a few minutes; I have something to say to you.”
“Now, whatever can you have to say, Claire dear? Nothing about that – that – oh, don’t, pray. I could not bear it. All the resolution I had was needed to come here at all, and, as I told you in my letter, it was impossible for me to come before. Frank would not let me.”
“I want to talk to you very – very seriously.”
“About that dreadful affair?”
“No,” said Claire, with a curiously solemn look coming over her face, and her voice assuming a deep, tragic tone.
“Then it is about – oh, Claire!” she cried passionately, as she glanced up at a floridly painted portrait of herself on the wall; “I do wish you would take that picture down.”
“Why should you mind that? You know papa likes it.”
“Because it reminds me so of the past.”
“When you were so weak and frivolous with that poor fellow Louis.”
“Now I did not come here to be scolded,” cried the childlike little thing passionately. “I don’t care. I did love poor Louis, and he’d no business to go away and die.”
“Hush, hush, May, my darling,” said Claire, with a pained face. “I did not scold you.”
“You did,” sobbed the other; “you said something about Louis, and that you had something to talk to me about. What is it?” she cried with a look of childish fright in her eyes. “What is it?” she repeated, and she clung to her sister excitedly.
“Hush, hush, May, I was not going to scold, only to talk to you.”
“It will keep, I’m sure,” cried May, with the scared look intensifying.
“No, dearest, it will not keep, for it is something very serious – so serious that I would not have our father know it for the world.”
“Lack-a-day, Claire,” cried Mrs Burnett, with assumed mirth forming pleasant dimples in her sweet childish face, “what is the matter?”
“I wanted to say a few words of warning to you, May dear. You know how ready people are to gossip?”
“Good lack, yes, indeed they are. But what – ?” she faltered, “what – ?”
“And several times lately they have been busy with your name.”
“With my name!” cried Mrs Burnett, with a forced laugh, and a sigh of relief.
“Yes, dear, about little bits of freedom, and – and – I don’t like to call it coquetry. I want you, dearest, to promise me that you will be a little more staid. Dear May, it pains me more than I can say.”
“Frump! frump! frump! Why you silly, weak, quakerish old frump, Claire! What nonsense to be sure! A woman in my position, asked out as I am to rout, and kettledrum, and ball, night after night, cannot sit mumchance against the wall, and mumble scandal with the old maids. Now, I wonder who has been putting all this in your head?”
“I will not repeat names, dear; but it is some one whom I can trust.”
“Then she is a scandalous old harridan, whoever she is,” cried Mrs Burnett with great warmth. “And what do you know about such matters?”
“I know it pains me to hear that my dear sister’s name is mentioned freely at the officers’ mess, and made a common toast.”
“Oh, indeed, madam; and pray what about yours? Who is talked of at every gathering, and married to everyone in turn?”
“I know nothing of those things,” said Claire coldly.
“Ah, well, all right; but, I say, when’s it to be, Claire? Don’t fribble away this season. I hear of two good opportunities for you; and – oh, I say, Claire, they do tell me that a certain gentleman said – a certain very high personage – that you were – ”
“Shame, sister!” cried Claire, starting up as if she had been stung. “How can you – how dare you, speak to me like that?”
“Hoity-toity! What’s the matter, child?”
“Child!” cried Claire indignantly. “Do you forget that you have always been as a child to me – my chief care ever since our mother died? Oh, May, May, darling, this is not like you. Pray – pray be more guarded in what you say. There, dearest, I am not angry; but this light and frivolous manner distresses me. You are Frank Burnett’s honoured wife – girl yet, I know; but your marriage lifts you at once to a position amongst women, and these light, flippant ways sit so ill upon one like you.”
“Oh, pooh! stuff! you silly, particular old frump!” cried May sharply. “Do you suppose that a married woman is going to be like a weak, prudish girl? There, there, there; I did not come to quarrel, and I won’t be scolded. I say, they tell me that handsome Major Rockley is likely to throw himself away on Cora Dean.”
“Oh, May, May, my darling!”
“You are a goose not to catch him in your own net.”
“Major Rockley?”
“Yes; he is rich and handsome. I wish I’d had him instead of Frank.”
“May, dear May!”
“Oh, I know: it’s only talk. But, I say, dear, have you heard about old Drelincourt? So shocking! In
