mirth seemed to be felt, for a long silence ensued; Arthur leaning against the mantel-shelf, solacing himself with a low whistle, John sitting in meditation. At last he looked up, saying, ‘I wish you would all come and stay with me at Ventnor.’
‘Thank you; but you see there’s no such thing as my going. Fitzhugh is in Norway, and till he comes back, I can’t get away for more than a day or two.’
‘Suppose,’ said John, rather doubtingly; ‘what should you think of putting Violet under my charge, and coming backwards and forwards yourself?’
‘Why, Harding did talk of sea air, but she did not take to the notion; and I was not sorry; for, of all things I detest, the chief is sticking up in a sea place, with nothing to do. But it is wretched work going on as we do, though they say there is nothing the matter but weakness. I verily believe it is all that child’s eternal noise that regularly wears her out. She is upset in a moment; and whenever she is left alone, she sets to work on some fidget or other about the house, that makes her worse than before.’
‘Going from home would be the best cure for that.’
‘I suppose it would. I meant her to have gone out with my mother, but that can’t be anyway now! The sea would give her a chance; I could run down pretty often; and you would see that she did not tire herself.’
‘I would do my best to take care of her, if you would trust her to me.’
‘I know you would; and it is very kind in you to think of it.’
‘I will find a house, and write as soon as it is ready. Do you think the end of the week would be too soon for her? I am sure London is doing her harm.’
‘Whenever you please; and yet I am sorry. I wanted my father to have seen the boy; but perhaps he had better look a little more respectable, and learn to hold his tongue first. Besides, how will it be taken, her going out of town just as they come up?’
‘I rather think it would be better for her not to meet them till she is stronger. Her continual anxiety and effort to please would be too much strain.’
‘Very likely; and I am sure I won’t keep her here to expose her to Miss Martindale’s airs. She shall come as soon as you like.’
Arthur was strengthened in his determination by the first sound that met him on going up-stairs—the poor babe’s lamentable voice; and by finding Violet, instead of taking the rest she so much needed, vainly trying to still the feeble moaning. He was positively angry; and almost as if the poor little thing had been wilfully persecuting her, declared it would be the death of her, and peremptorily ordered it up-stairs; the nurse only too glad to carry it off, and agreeing with him that it was doing more harm to its mother than she did good to it. Violet, in submissive misery, gave it up, and hid her face. One of her chief subjects for self-torment was an imagination that Arthur did not like the baby, and was displeased with its crying; and she felt utterly wretched, hardly able to bear the cheerful tone in which he spoke! ‘Well, Violet, we shall soon set you up. It is all settled. You are to go, at the end of the week, to stay with John in the Isle of Wight.’
‘Go away?’ said Violet, in an extinguished voice.
‘Yes; it is the very thing for you. I shall stay here, and go backwards and forwards. Well, what is it now?’
She was starting up, as the opening of the door let out another scream. ‘There he is still! Let me go to him for one minute.’
‘Folly!’ said Arthur, impatiently. ‘There’s no peace day or night. I won’t stand it any longer. You are half dead already. I will not have it go on. Lie down; go to sleep directly, and don’t trouble your head about anything more till morning.’
Like a good child, though choking with tears, she obeyed the first mandate; and presently was rather comforted by his listening at the foot of the stairs, and reporting that the boy seemed to be quiet at last. The rest of the order it was not in her power to obey; she was too much fatigued to sleep soundly, or to understand clearly. Most of the night was spent in broken dreams of being separated from her child and her husband, and wakening to the knowledge that something was going to happen.
At last came sounder slumbers; and she awoke with an aching head, but to clearer perceptions. And when Arthur, before going down to breakfast, asked what she wished him to say to John, she answered: ‘It is very kind of him—but you never meant me to go without you?’
‘I shall take you there, and run down pretty often; and John has been used to coddling himself all his life, so of course he will know how to take care of you.’
‘How kind he is, but I don’t’—she broke off, and looked at the little pinched face and shrivelled arms of the tiny creature, which she pressed more closely to her; then, with a hesitating voice, ‘Only, if it would do baby good!’
‘Of course it would. He can’t be well while things go on at this rate. Only ask Harding.’
‘I wonder whether Mr. Martindale knew it was what Mr. Harding recommended! But you would be by yourself.’
‘As if I had not taken care of myself for three-and-twenty years without your help!’
‘And all your party will be in town, so that you will not miss me.’
‘I shall be with you very often. Shall I tell John you accept?’
‘Tell him it is very kind, and I am so much obliged to him,’ said Violet, unable to speak otherwise than disconsolately.
Accordingly the brothers agreed that Arthur should bring her to Ventnor on Saturday, if, as John expected, he could be prepared to receive her; placing much confidence in Brown’s savoir faire, though Brown was beyond measure amazed at such a disarrangement of his master’s methodical habits; and Arthur himself gave a commiserating shake of the head as he observed that there was no accounting for tastes, but if John chose to shut himself up in a lodging with the most squallingest babby in creation, he was not the man to gainsay him; and further reflected, that if a man must be a younger son, John was a model elder brother.
Poor Violet! Her half-recovered state must be an excuse for her dire consternation on hearing it was definitively settled that she was to be carried off to Ventnor in four days’ time! How arrange for Arthur? Where find a nursemaid? What would become of the baby so far from Mr. Harding? The Isle of Wight seemed the ends of the earth—out of England! Helpless and overpowered, she was in despair; it came to Arthur’s asking, in displeasure, what she wanted—whether she meant to go or not. She thought of her drooping infant, and said at once she would go.
‘Well, then, what’s all this about?’
Then came tears, and Arthur went away, declaring she did not know herself what she would be at. He had really borne patiently with much plaintiveness, and she knew it. She accused herself of ingratitude and unreasonableness, and went into a fresh agony on that score; but soon a tap at the door warned her to strive for composure. It was Sarah, and Violet felt sure that the dreaded moment was come of her giving warning; but it was only a message. ‘If you please, ma’am, there’s a young person wants to see you.’
‘Come as a nursery maid?’ said Violet, springing up in her nervous agitated way. ‘Do you think she will do?’
‘I don’t think nothing of her,’ said Sarah, emphatically. ‘Don’t you go and be in a way, ma’am; there’s no hurry.’
‘Yes, but there is, Sarah. Baby and I are to go next Saturday to the Isle of Wight, and I can’t take
