Barbara in Brittany Part 18

"Oh, that isn't it at all," Barbara a.s.sured her. "It is just that I have never known such hot weather before, and it makes me disinclined for things."

"You are looking whitish, but that is because you have been staying in the house too much lately. Dol would do you good and cheer you up."

"Another time," the girl pleaded. "I think I won't go to-day," and the lady left her with a shrug, and the remark that she would not go either. She was evidently annoyed, and Barbara wondered what she should do to atone for it; but later in the day she had a visit that drove the thoughts of Dol from both her mind and mademoiselle's.

She was sitting in her room trying to read, and wondering why she could not understand the paragraph, though she had read it three or four times, when Mademoiselle Therese came running in excitedly to say there were two American gentlemen downstairs in the _salon_ to see her--one old, one young. "Mr. Morton," was the name on the card.

"Why, it must be the American pretender!" cried Barbara; who, seeing her companion's look of surprise, added hastily, "the elder one used to know my Aunt Anne, and they have both been in Paris; it was the younger one who helped Alice Meynell there."

"Then, indeed, I must descend and inquire after her," said mademoiselle joyfully. "I will just run and make my toilet again. In the meanwhile, do you go down and entertain them till I come."

But Barbara was already out of the room, for she thought she would like to have a few minutes conversation before Mademoiselle Therese came in, as there might not be much opportunity afterwards.

"How nice of you to call on me," she said, as she entered the _salon_.

"I was just longing for one of the English-speaking race."

The elder Mr. Morton was tall and thin, with something in his carriage that suggested a military upbringing; his hair and eyes gray, the latter very like his nephew's grown sad.

"The place does not suit you?" the elder man inquired, looking at her face.

"Oh, yes, I think so; it is just very hot at present."

"Like the day you tried to ride to Dol," the nephew remarked, wondering if it were only the ride that had given her so much more colour the first time he had seen her, and the sea breeze that had reddened her cheeks the last time.

But there were so many things the girl was anxious to hear about, that she did not allow the conversation to lapse to herself or the weather again before Mademoiselle Therese, arrayed in her best, made her appearance. She at once seized upon the younger man, and began to pour out questions about Alice.

"You need not fear any bad results," Mr. Morton said to Barbara. "My nephew is very discreet;" and Barbara, hearing sc.r.a.ps of the conversation, thought he was not only discreet but lawyer-like in his replies.

The visit was not a very long one, Mr. Morton declining an invitation to supper that evening, with promises to come some other time. But before they went, he seized a moment when Barbara's attention was engaged by his nephew to say something that his hostess rather resented.

"The young lady does not look so well as I had imagined she would. I suppose her health is quite good at present?"

"She has complained of nothing," Mademoiselle Therese returned, bridling. "Why should she be ill? The food is excellent and abundant, and we do everything imaginable for the comfort of our inmates."

"I am sure you do, madame," he replied, bowing. "I shall have the pleasure of calling upon you again, I hope, before long. As I knew Miss Britton it is natural for me to take an interest in her niece when in a foreign land. Your aunt, I suppose, is now in England?" he added casually to Barbara.

"Yes--staying with us for a day or two; but I hope she will come here before I go, and we could make an excursion on our way home."

"That would be pleasant for both, I am sure," Mr. Morton replied, taking a ceremonious leave of Mademoiselle Therese, and a simple, though warmer one of Barbara. The young man said little in parting, but as soon as they were in the street he laid his hand hurriedly on his uncle's arm.

"The girl is ill, uncle, I am sure of it; she is not like the same person I met before; and that Mademoiselle Therese would drive me crazy if I weren't feeling up to the mark."

"No doubt; what a tongue the woman has! But what do you want to do, Denys, for, of course, you have made up your mind to do something?"

Denys frowned. "Of course I don't want to seem interfering, but I won't say anything at home in case of frightening her mother. But----"

he paused and looked up at his uncle--"do you think it would seem impertinent to write to the aunt? She might come a little sooner, perhaps, and, being at Mrs. Britton's, could use her judgment about telling her or not."

Mr. Morton pondered, his mind not wholly on the girl whom they had just left; then remembering his nephew he brought his thoughts down to the present. "I should risk the impertinence if I were you, Denys. But what about the address?"

"I know the village and the county," Denys said eagerly. "I should think that would find her. I will do it when I get back."

But it proved more difficult to write than he imagined, and it was some time before--having succeeded to his satisfaction--he brought the letter to his uncle for criticism. It ran thus:--

"DEAR MADAM,--I am afraid you may think it rather impertinent on my part to write to you, but I hope you will forgive that, and my apparent interference. I am Denys Morton, whom your niece met some time ago on the way to Dol, and, as my uncle and I were pa.s.sing this way in returning from a little tour, we called on Miss Britton, and both thought her looking ill. The doctor here is, I believe, quite good, but Mademoiselle Therese, though doubtless a worthy lady, would, to me, be rather trying in time of illness. I should not write to you, but I fear Miss Britton will not, being unwilling to worry you or any of those at home. My uncle made a suggestion on the matter to Mademoiselle Therese, which was not very much liked by that lady, therefore he thought I might write you. He asks me--if you still remember him as a 'past acquaintance'--to give you his regards.

"Hoping you will forgive my officiousness.

"Yours truly, "DENYS MORTON."

"That is quite pa.s.sable," Mr. Morton said when he had read it. "I think you will hardly give offence. I wonder if she remembers me?"

"She could hardly help doing that," and Denys nodded affectionately at his uncle. "But I shall be much happier when this letter arrives at its destination. The address is not very exact. However, we will see, and we can call again to-morrow--it would be kind, don't you think, to one of our 'kith,' so to speak, and in a foreign land?"

The uncle smiled. "It would be kind, as you say, Denys, so we will do it."

But when they called the following afternoon they were told that Miss Britton was in bed and Mademoiselle Therese engaged. As a matter of fact, she was in the midst of composing a letter to Mrs. Britton, for when Barbara had said as carelessly as she could, that she would stay in bed just for one day, Mademoiselle Therese, remembering her visitor's "remarks the previous afternoon, had taken alarm and sent for the doctor, and now thought it would be wiser to write to Mrs. Britton.

Having wasted a good many sheets of paper, and murmured the letter over several times to herself, she sought her sister out.

"Listen," she said proudly, "I think I have succeeded admirably in telling Mrs. Britton the truth and yet not alarming her, at the same time showing her that by my knowledge of her language I am not unfitted to teach others."

"HONOURED MADAM,--I am permitting myself to write to you about your dear daughter, who has entwined herself much into our hearts. There are now some few days she has seemed a little indisposed, and at last we succeeded in persuading her to retire to bed, and called in the worthy and most respectable, not to say gifted, family doctor who gives us his attention in times of illness. He expressed his opinion that it was a species of low fever, what the dear young lady had contracted, out of the kindness of her good heart, in visiting in time of sickness the small sister of the bath-boy (a profession which you do not have in England)----

"That shows my knowledge of their customs, you see," the reader could not refrain from interpolating; then she continued with a flourish--

"and the daughter of a worthy _blanchisseuse_, who is in every respect very clean and orderly, therefore we thought to be trusted with the presence of your daughter, but whom, in the future, we will urge the advisability of leaving unvisited."

Mademoiselle paused a moment for breath, for the sentence was a long one, and she had rolled it out with enjoyment. "Of course," she said to her sister, "I have not yet visited the house of this _blanchisseuse_, but I inquired if it was clean, and, would not have allowed the girl to go if the report had not been favourable; but to continue--

"Your daughter, in the excellence of her heart, would not, perhaps, desire to rouse your anxieties by mentioning her indisposition, but we felt it inc.u.mbent upon us, in whose charge she lies, to inform her relatives, and, above all, her devoted mother.

"With affectuous regards, "Yours respectably, "THeReSE LOIRe."

"There!" exclaimed the writer in conclusion. "Do you not think that is a fine letter?"

Her sister shrugged her shoulders.

"Probably it is, but you forget I cannot understand English. But pray do not trouble to translate it," she added hastily; "I quite believe it is all that you say."

"Yes, you may believe that," and Mademoiselle Therese closed the envelope. "I think it will make an impression."