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"As he pleases," returned Miss March, a slight reserve tempering her frank manner; but it soon vanished, and she began talking to me in her usual friendly way, asking me many questions about the Brithwoods and about Norton Bury. I answered them freely my only reservation being, that I took care not to give any information concerning ourselves.
I think, John, for the first time in our lives, we may say we have seen a LADY." "Most certainly a lady." "Nay, I only meant that, girl as she is, she is evidently accustomed to what is called 'society. Which makes it the more likely that her father is the Mr. March who was cousin to the Brithwoods. An odd coincidence." "A very odd coincidence."
Once I spent a summer here, with an old pupil, now grown up. I am going to-day to inquire about her at the Mythe House. The Brithwoods came home yesterday." I was afraid to look at John. Even to me the news was startling. How I blessed Mrs. Jessop's innocent garrulousness. "I hope they will remain here some time. I have a special interest in their stay. Not on Lady Caroline's account, though.
A few even looked askance at our hostess, as though some terrible judgment must fall upon poor ignorant Mrs. Jessop, who had dared to amalgamate such opposite ranks. So it came to pass, that while everybody gathered round the Brithwoods John and I stood alone, and half concealed by the window. Very soon I heard Lady Caroline's loud whisper; "Mrs. Jessop, my good friend, one moment.
"Hush! papa, that is a secret at present. Pray, Mr. Halifax, do you know Norton Bury?" The abruptness of the question startled John, so that he only answered in a hurried affirmative. Indeed, Mr. March left him no time for further explanation. "I hate the place. My late wife's cousins, the Brithwoods of the Mythe, with whom I have had ahem! strong political differences live there.
Jessop's quick eyes seemed often upon him or me, with an expression that I could not make out at all, save that in such a good woman, whom Miss March so well loved, could lurk nothing evil or unkindly. So I tried to turn my attention to the Brithwoods.
But the doctor's good wife, Ursula March's wise governess, would never lure a young man with such phantoms as these. I felt sure certain that if we met the Brithwoods we should meet no one else.
So she sat, and I looked sideways at her dropped eyes her forehead with its coronet of chestnut curls. How would he bear the sight he of whose heart mine was the mere faint echo? Yet truly an echo, repeating with cruel faithfulness every throb. He kept his position, a little aloof from the Brithwoods, who were holding a slight altercation though more of looks than words. John heeded them not.
He leaned on the mantelpiece. I could see he was very much affected. So was I. "Her relatives surely they ought to be sent for?" "She has none. Doctor Brown said she once told him so: none nearer than the Brithwoods of the Mythe and we know what the Brithwoods are." A young gentleman and his young wife proverbially the gayest, proudest, most light-hearted of all our country families.
It was strange, the grave tone our intercourse now invariably assumed. We might have been three old people, who had long fought with and endured the crosses of the world, instead of two young men and a young woman, in the very dawn of life. "Circumstances have fixed my plans since I saw you yesterday. I am going to reside for a time with my cousins, the Brithwoods. It seems best for me.
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