Part 70 (1/2)

'I would have come to life again in time to enjoy the ”coup de theatre”.

I had some thoughts of trying an overdose of opium; but I thought Dr.

Mayerne would have found me out. I tell you, because it is fair I should have the credit; for, Guy, if you knew what she was to me all the winter, you would perceive my superhuman generosity in not receiving you as my greatest enemy.'

'I shall soon cease to be surprised at any superhuman generosity,' said Guy. 'But how thin you are, Charlie; you are a very feather to carry; I had no notion it had been such a severe business.'

'Most uncommon!' said Charles, shaking his head, with a mock solemnity.

'It was the worst of all,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, 'six weeks of constant pain.'

'How very sorry Philip must have been!' exclaimed Guy.

'Philip?' said Charlotte.

'Why, was it not owing to him? Surely, your father told me so. Did not he let you fall on the stairs?'

'My dear father!' exclaimed Charles, laughing; 'every disaster that happens for the next twelvemonth will be imputed to Philip.'

'How was it, then?' said Guy.

'The fact was this,' said Charles; 'it was in the thick of the persecution of you, and I was obliged to let Philip drag me upstairs, because I was in a hurry. He took the opportunity of giving me some impertinent advice which I could not stand. I let go his arm, forgetting what a dependent mortal I am, and down I should a.s.suredly have gone, if he had not caught me, and carried me off, as a fox does a goose, so it was his fault, as one may say, in a moral, though not in a physical sense.'

'Then,' said his mother, 'you do think your illness was owing to that accident?'

'I suppose the damage was brewing, and that the shake brought it into an active state. There's a medical opinion for you!'

'Well, I never knew what you thought of it before,' said Mrs.

Edmonstone.

'Why, when I had a condor to pick on Guy's account with Philip, I was not going to pick a crow on my own,' said Charles. 'Oh! is luncheon ready; and you all going? I never see anybody now. I want the story of the s.h.i.+pwreck, though, of course, Ben What's-his-name was the hero, and Sir Guy Morville not a bit of it.'

Laura wanted to walk to East Hill, and the other young people agreed to go thither, too.

'It will be nice to go to church there to-day' said Amy, in a half-whisper, heard only by Guy, and answered by a look that showed how well he understood and sympathized.

'Another thing,' said Amy, colouring a good deal; 'shall you mind my telling Mary? I behaved so oddly last night, and she was so kind to me that I think I ought.'

Mary had seen enough last night to be very curious to-day, though hardly expecting her curiosity to be gratified. However, as she was putting on her bonnet for church, she looked out of her window, and saw the four coming across the fields from Hollywell. Guy and Amy did not walk into the village arm-in-arm; but, as they came under the church porch, Guy, unseen by all held out his hand, sought hers, and, for one moment, pressed it fervently. Amy knew he felt this like their betrothal.

After the service, they stood talking with Mr. Ross and Mary, for some little time. Amy held apart, and Mary saw how it was. As they were about to turn homewards, Amy said quickly, 'Come and walk a little way home with me.'

She went on with Mary before the rest, and when out of sight of them all, said, 'Mary!' and then stopped short.

'I guess something, Amy,' said Mary.

'Don't tell any one but Mr. Ross.'

'Then I have guessed right. My dear little Amy, I am very glad! So that was the reason you flew out of the room last evening, and looked so bright and glowing!'