"Half of them have got nervous diseases and all sorts of things wrong with them from over-much tea and tight lacing," replied Errington, "and the few who are tolerably healthy are too bouncing by half, going in for hunting and such-like amusements till they grow blowsy and fat, and coarse as tom-boys or grooms. They can never hit the juste milieu. Well!" and he rose from the breakfast-table. "I'll go and see Neville and attend to business. We'll drive out this afternoon for some fresh air, and afterwards you must rest, my pet--for you'll find an 'at home' more tiring than climbing a mountain in Norway."
He kissed, and left her to her usual occupations, of which she had many, for she had taken great pains to learn all the details of the work in the Errington Establishment,--in fact, she went every morning to the little room where Mistress Parton, the housekeeper, received her with much respect and affection, and duly instructed her on every point of the domestic management and daily expenditure, so that she was thoroughly acquainted with everything that went on.
She had very orderly quiet ways of her own, and though thoughtful for the comfort and well-being of the lowest servant in her household she very firmly checked all extravagance and waste, yet in such a gentle, unobtrusive manner that her control was scarcely felt--though her husband at once recognized it in the gradually decreasing weekly expenses, while to all appearance, things were the same as ever. She had plenty of clear, good common sense,--she saw no reason why she should waste her husband's wealth simply because it was abundant,--so that under her mild sway, Sir Philip found himself getting richer without any trouble on his own part. His house assumed an air of lighter and more tasteful elegance,--flowers, always arranged by Thelma herself, adorned the rooms,--birds filled the great conservatory with their delicious warblings, and gradually that strange fairy sweet fabric known as "Home" rose smilingly around him. Formerly he had much disliked his stately town mansion--he had thought it dull and cold--almost gloomy,--but now he considered it charming, and wondered he had missed so many of its good points before.
And when the evening for Lady Winsleigh's "crush" came,--he looked regretfully round the lovely luxurious drawing-room with its bright fire, deep easy chairs, books, and grand piano, and wished he and his wife could remain at home in peace. He glanced at his watch--it was ten o'clock. There was no hurry--he had not the least intention of arriving at Winsleigh House too early. He knew what the effect of Thelma's entrance would be--and he smiled as he thought of it. He was waiting for her now,--he himself was ready in full evening dress--and remarkably handsome he looked. He walked up and down restlessly for a minute or so,--then taking up a volume of Keats, he threw himself into an easy chair and soon became absorbed. His eyes were still on the printed page, when a light touch on his shoulder startled him,--a soft, half-laughing voice inquired--"Philip! Do I please you?"