Nurse Elisia Part 48

"I am not going to say any more about those two poor girls who have been expatriated by your brothers' base conduct."

"Auntie! It was not base if the boys did not love them."

"They did love them, and they do love them, my dear," said Aunt Anne sternly. "All this is but a pa.s.sing cloud, spread by that wicked woman, which blinds them. But it was not about that I wished to speak to you."

"What, then, Auntie?" said Isabel, looking at her suspiciously, and thinking of a visit she had paid a few days before to a certain invalid vicar who had lain back in his chair to proudly read aloud portions of a letter he had received by the last mail.

"Sir Cheltnam Burwood was here yesterday. Now, it is of no use for you to pretend that you did not know he was here, for I am certain that I saw you stealing off down the laurel walk, on the pretence of going to visit some of the poor, and I dare say, if the truth were known, you went to the vicarage."

"There was no pretence about it, Aunt dear."

"But indeed there was, Isabel, and _I_ was obliged to entertain him, instead of you. Naturally enough, he complained very bitterly of your treatment, and I must say that for a young lady engaged to him it is most icy, almost paralysing."

"Papa will not persist," thought Isabel; "he has grown so kind and loving to me. He will not make me say yes, when he knows that it would break my heart."

"Now, it is of no use for you to turn sulky, my dear, and take refuge in silence. That is very childish and unbecoming in a girl like you. For you are no longer a child, and if you cannot do what is just and right, you must be taught. I have invited Sir Cheltnam to dinner on Tuesday."

"Aunt!"

"Yes, my dear, and I am sure your papa will highly approve of my plan.

It is absurd to go on as you do, though your conduct is no worse than your brothers'. I declare, the house is quite wretched: Neil shut up always in the library, pretending to study bones, and Alison sulking about in the gunroom, and scowling at Neil whenever they meet. All I hope is that nothing worse will come of it."

"Oh, Aunt, what could come of it?" said Isabel uneasily.

"Ah, you speak like a child. When you have had my experience of the world and man's angry pa.s.sions, you too will have fears."

"It is all very sad and a great pity," said Isabel. "Yes, and a greater pity that those two misguided young men's sister should go on as she does, making a devoted friend of the cause of all the mischief." Isabel winced.

"I'm sure we've quite trouble enough in the house without having a parricide."

"Auntie! A parricide?"

"Don't be absurd, Isabel. I said a fratricide."

"Aunt, what a dreadful idea! Oh, for shame!"

"Dreadful enough, my dear, and I'm sure I sincerely hope there never will be anything of the kind, but Cain never could have looked at Abel worse than Alison did at Neil only yesterday."

"Aunt!"

"Oh, it's true, my dear. It sent a cold chill all down my back; and ever since I've felt quite a presentiment of coming evil. I do hope they will not quarrel, and really I think it would be better if Neil went back to town."

"Aunt, dear, such ideas are too shocking. Just as if Neil would be likely to degrade himself by quarrelling with Alison. I am sure he has too much self-respect."

"Ah, young inexperience!" cried Aunt Anne pityingly. "Young men forget all their self-respect when they have been blinded by such a siren as that nurse."

"Oh, Aunt, you ought not to speak of nurse like that."

"You think so, my dear; I do not."

"But you will some day," cried Isabel pa.s.sionately, and with the tears of vexation in her eyes. "She is all that is amiable, and good, and ladylike."

"Ladylike, child!"

"Yes, Aunt. If she were not, I'm sure poor dear Neil would not have cared for her as he does."

"Ah, well," said Aunt Anne, preening herself like a plump bird, "we shall see, I dare say. I will not call her an artful woman, but mark my words, Isabel, she will not rest till she has deluded one of your poor brothers into marrying her."

"Aunt! And she avoids them, and is as distant as possible to poor Neil."

"All feminine cunning, child. Oh, Isabel, I wish you would not be such a baby! Can you not see that it is to lead him on, while she is playing off one brother against the other?"

"I will not argue with you, Aunt," said the girl indignantly.

"No, my dear, I beg you will not. Wait and see, and then come to me humbly, and own how wrong you have been."

Isabel was silent, and Aunt Anne went leisurely on with some fancywork of a very useless type, till an idea occurred to her, and she looked up.

"Isabel, my dear, what wine was that Sir Cheltnam praised so, last time he dined here?"

"Really, Aunt, I do not know."

"No, child, you never know anything. It is very tiresome. I should like the dinner to go off well, and that wine has quite slipped my memory. Now, was it the hock, or the champagne? He would like the compliment if I had the forethought to have it served." Isabel shrugged her shoulders impatiently.

"It is very tiresome," continued Aunt Anne. "He praised one of them, and made a face at the other; but perhaps I shall recollect by and by.

I wonder that I remember anything, hara.s.sed as my poor brain is with worry and trouble, and you never trying in the least to help me, but rather setting yourself in antagonism."

"Oh, Aunt, you are too hard."

"Not a bit, child. And I am surprised at your giving so much as a pa.s.sing thought to young Mr Beck. Tom! Gracious, what a name! Only fit for a groom, or one of the men about the farm."

"Really, Aunt," began Isabel.

"Now, pray do not interrupt me, Isabel. The name is common and absurd.

Now, Cheltnam--Sir Cheltnam--Sir Cheltnam Burwood! It is old, aristocratic, and refined. A name to be proud of. But Beck--Tom Beck!

Faugh!"

"It sounds honest, Auntie," said the girl with spirit, "and does not suggest drinking the Cheltenham waters, which I believe are very bitter."

"Now that's absurd and childish, Isabel, and you know it is. I did hope that now young Beck has gone, you would come to your senses. But I will be fair, and say that your brothers are worse than you. I suppose I shall have to beg and pray of them to come in to dinner, and behave like Christians, and not let Sir Cheltnam think he is going to be brother-in-law to a couple of young men with malice and hatred in their hearts. All your beautiful nurse's doing, my dear, all her fault.

Well, really! To jump up and run out of the room like that!" cried Aunt Anne, staring in amazement at the last fold of her niece's dress, as the poor girl hurried away, unable to bear the long flow of annoying prattle, and to hide her chagrin in face of the ordeal to which she was to be submitted at the dinner projected by her aunt.

She hurried up to her room, to sink upon her knees by her bed and bury her face in her hands.

"Crying, Isabel? What is the matter, dear?"

She had not heard the door opened, and she started to her feet to throw herself upon Nurse Elisia's breast, sobbing out her trouble, and dread of the meeting on the following Tuesday, when she knew that in her mistaken notions of duty, Aunt Anne would contrive that she and Sir Cheltnam should be left alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.