"I could not keep it from one who has been so uniformly kind to me; but
I desired her not to let it go further till I should hear your wishes."
"Yes, she has a right to know," said Ermine; "but please, not a word
elsewhere."
"And will you not come to stay with her?"
"I? Oh, no; I am fit for no place but this. You don't half know how
bad I am. When you have seen a little more of us, you will be quite
convinced."
"Well, at least, you give me leave to come here."
"Leave? When it is a greater pleasure than I ever thought to have again;
that is, while you understand that you said good-bye to the Ermine of
Beauchamp Parsonage twelve years ago, and that the thing here is only a
sort of ghost, most glad and grateful to be a friend--a sister."
"So," he said, "those are to be the terms of my admission."
"The only possible ones."
"I will consider them. I have not accepted them."
"You will," she said.
But she met a smile in return, implying that there might be a will as
steadfast as her own, although the question might be waived for a time.
Meantime, Rachel was as nearly hating Colonel Keith as principle would
allow, with "Human Reeds," newly finished, burning in her pocket,
"Military Society" fermenting in her brain, and "Curatocult" still
unacknowledged. Had he not had quite time for any rational visit? Was he
to devour Mackarel Lane as well as Myrtlewood? She was on her way to the
latter house, meeting Grace as she went, and congratulating herself that
he could not be in two places at once, whilst Grace secretly wondered
how far she might venture to build on Alison Williams's half confidence,
and regretted the anxiety wasted by Rachel and the mother; though, to
be sure, that of Mrs. Curtis was less uncalled for than her daughter's,
since it was only the fear of Fanny's not being sufficiently guarded
against misconstructions.
Rachel held up her hands in despair in the hall. "Six officers' cards!"
she exclaimed.
"No, only six cards," said Grace; "there are two of each."
"That's enough," sighed Rachel; "and look there," gazing through the
garden-door. "She is walking with the young puppy that dined here on
Thursday, and they called Alick."
"Do you remember," said Grace, "how she used to chatter about Alick,
when she first came to us, at six years old. He was the child of one of
the officers. Can this be the same?"
"That's one of your ideas, Grace. Look, this youth could have been
hardly born when Fanny came to us. No; he is only one of the idlers that
military life has accustomed her to."