Part 92 (2/2)

'Where is Laura?' said Mary, smiling.

'I turned her out to walk with Charlotte, and I want some counsel, as mamma says I know nothing of lovers.'

'Because I know so much?'

'You know feminine nature I want to know what is the best thing to do for Laura. Poor thing! I can't bear to see her look so wretched, worrying herself with care of me. I have done the best I could by taking Charlotte's lessons, and sending her out to mope alone, as she likes best; but I wish you would tell me how to manage her.'

'I know nothing better for her than waiting on you.'

'That's hard,' said Charles, 'that having made the world dance attendance on me for my pleasure, I must now do it for theirs. But what do you think about telling her of this letter, or showing it, remembering that not a word about her troubles has pa.s.sed between us?'

'By all means tell her. You must judge about showing it, but I should think the opening for talking to her on the subject a great gain.'

'Should you? What, thinking as I do of the man? Should I not be between the horns of a dilemma if I had to speak the honest truth, yet not hurt her feelings?'

'She has been so long shut up from sympathy, that any proof of kindness must be a comfort.'

'Well, I should like to do her some good, but it will be a mercy, if she does not make me fall foul of Philip! I can get up a little Christian charity, when my father or Charlotte rave at him, but I can't stand hearing him praised. I take the opportunity of saying so while I can, for I expect he will come home as her betrothed, and then we shall not be able to say one word.'

'No, I dare say he will be so altered and subdued that you will not be so disposed to rail. This confession is a grand thing. Good-bye I must get back to church. Poor Laura! how busy she has been about her sketch there lately.'

'Yes, she has been eager about finis.h.i.+ng it ever since Guy began to be ill. Good-bye. Wish me well through my part of confidant to-night. It is much against the grain, though I would give something to cheer up my poor sister.'

'I am sure you would,' thought Mary to herself, as she looked back at him: 'what a quant.i.ty of kind, right feeling there in under that odd, dry manner, that strives to appear to love nothing but a joke.'

As soon as Charlotte was gone to bed, Charles, in accordance with his determination, said to Laura,--

'Have you any fancy for seeing Amy's letter?'

'Thank you;' and, without speaking, Laura took it. He forbore to watch her expression as she read. When she had finished, her face was fixed in silent unhappiness.

'He has been suffering a great deal, I am sure,' said Charles, kindly.

It was the first voluntary word of compa.s.sion towards Philip that Laura had heard, and it was as grateful as unexpected. Her face softened, and tears gushed from her eyes as she said,--

'You do not know how much. There he is grieving for me! thinking they will be angry with me, and hurting himself with that! Oh! if this had but come before they set off!'

'Guy and Amy will tell them of his having written.'

'Dear, dear Guy and Amy! He speaks so earnestly of their kindness. I don't fear it so much now he and Guy understand each other.'

Recollecting her love, Charles refrained, only saying, 'You can rely on their doing everything to make it better.'

'I can hardly bear to think of what we owe to them,' said Laura.

'How glad I am that Amy was there after he wrote, when he was so much overcome! Amy has written me such a very kind note; I think you must see that--it is so like her own dear self.'

She gave it to him, and he read:--

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