"No, certainly not," she answered eagerly, then made a little hesitation
that made him ask further.
"My only fear," she said candidly, "is, that if this is pressed much on
her, and she has to struggle with you and herself too, it may hurt her
health. Trouble tells not on her cheerfulness, but on her nerves."
"Thank you," he said, "I will refrain."
Alison was much happier than she had been since the first apprehension
of his return. The first pang at seeing Ermine's heart another's
property had been subdued; the present state of affairs was
indefinitely-prolonged, and she not only felt trust in Colin Keith's
consideration for her sister, but she knew that an act of oblivion was
past on her perpetration of the injury. She was right. His original
pitying repugnance to a mere unknown child could not be carried on to
the grave, saddened woman devoted to her sister, and in the friendly
brotherly tone of that interview, each understood the other. And when
Alison came home and said, "I have been walking with Colin," her look
made Ermine very happy.
"And learning to know him."
"Learning to sympathize with him, Ermine," with steady eyes and voice.
"You are hard on him."
"Now, Ailie," said Ermine, "once for all, he is not to set you on me,
as he has done with Lady Temple. The more he persuades me, the better I
know that to listen would be an abuse of his constancy. It would set him
wrong with his brother, and, as dear Edward's affairs stand, we have no
right to carry the supposed disgrace into a family that would believe
it, though he does not. If I were ever so well, I should not think it
right to marry. I shall not shun the sight of him; it is delightful to
me, and a less painful cure to him than sending him away would be. It
is in the nature of things that he should cool into a friendly kindly
feeling, and I shall try to bear it. Or if he does marry, it will be all
right I suppose--" but her voice faltered, and she gave a sort of broken
laugh.
"There," she said, with a recovered flash of liveliness, "there's my
resolution, to do what I like more than anything in the world as long as
I can; and when it is over I shall be helped to do without it!"
"I can't believe--" broke out Alison.
"Not in your heart, but in your reason," said Ermine, endeavouring
to smile. "He will hover about here, and always be kind, loving,
considerate; but a time will come that he will want the home happiness
I cannot give. Then he will not wear out his affection on the impossible
literary cripple, but begin over again, and be happy. And, Alison, if
your love for me is of the sound, strong sort I know it is, you will
help me through with it, and never say one word to make all this less
easy and obvious to him."