LITMIR.BIZ

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accounts are a monomania! She has been worse from the day she got hold of that book of hers again, and the absurd part of it is that these are all bills that she pays!’

      ‘Oh! they are all comfortable now,’ said Violet.

      ‘And what did you say to Arthur’s bold stroke!’ said John.

      ‘Oh! I never laughed more in my life.’

      ‘Ah ha’’ said Arthur, ‘it was all my admirable sagacity! Why, John, the woman was an incubus saddled upon us by Miss Standaloft, that this poor silly child did not know how to get rid of, though she was cheating us out of house and home. Never were such rejoicings as when she found the Old Man of the Sea was gone!’

      ‘It is quite a different thing now,’ said Violet. ‘Nurse found me such a nice niece of her own, who does not consume as much in a fortnight as that dreadful woman did in a week. Indeed, my great book has some satisfaction in it now.’

      ‘And yet he accuses it of having thrown you back.’

      ‘Everything does that!’ said Arthur. ‘She will extract means of tiring herself out of anything—pretends to be well, and then is good for nothing!’

      ‘Arthur! Arthur! do you know what you are doing with the tea?’ cried Violet, starting up. He has put in six shellfuls for three people, and a lump of sugar, and now was shutting up the unfortunate teapot without one drop of water!’ And gaily driving him away, she held up the sugar-tongs with the lump of sugar in his face, while he laughed and yielded the field, saying, disdainfully, ‘Woman’s work.’

      ‘Under the circumstances,’ said John, ‘putting in no water was the best thing he could do.’

      ‘Ay,’ said Arthur, ‘a pretty fellow you for a West Indian proprietor, to consume neither sugar nor cigars.’

      ‘At this rate,’ said John, ‘they are the people to consume nothing. There was such an account of the Barbuda property the other day, that my father is thinking of going to see what is to be done with it.’

      ‘No bad plan for your next winter,’ said Arthur. ‘Now, Violet, to your sofa! You have brewed your female potion in your female fashion, and may surely leave your betters to pour it out.’

      ‘No, indeed! How do I know what you may serve us up?’ said she, quite revived with laughing. ‘I won’t give up my place.’

      ‘Quite right, Violet,’ said John, ‘don’t leave me to his mercy. Last time he made tea for me, it consisted only of the other ingredient, hot water, after which I took the law into my own hands for our mutual benefit. Pray what became of him after I was gone?’

      ‘I was obliged to have him up into my room, and give him his tea properly there, or I believe he would have existed on nothing but cigars.’

      ‘Well, I shall have some opinion of you when you make him leave off cigars.’

      ‘Catch her!’ quietly responded Arthur.

      ‘There can’t be a worse thing for a man that gets bad coughs.’

      ‘That’s all smoke, Violet,’ said Arthur. ‘Don’t tell her so, or I shall never have any peace.’

      ‘At least, I advise you to open the windows of his den before you show my mother and Theodora the house.’

      ‘As to Theodora! what is the matter with her!’ said Arthur.

      ‘I don’t know,’ said John.

      ‘In one of her moods? Well, we shall have her here in ten days’ time, and I shall know what to be at with her.’

      ‘I know she likes babies,’ said Violet, with confidence. She had quite revived, and was lively and amused; but as soon as tea was over, Arthur insisted on her going to bed.

      The loss of her gentle 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

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