readfully afraid of being
missed, she seemed unable to turn away from the contemplation.

'My dear,' said she, in an agitated voice, as they left the nursery,
'you must not keep these children here in London. You must not sacrifice
their health. It is the first consideration. Don't let them stay in that
hot nursery! Pray do not.'

'We shall be in the country soon,' said Violet.

'Why not at once? Does expense prevent you? Tell me, my dear, what it
would cost. I always have plenty to spare. Would L100 do it? and you
need tell no one. I could give you L200,' said Lady Martindale, who
had as little idea of the value of money as any lady in her Majesty's
dominions. 'I must have that dear little girl in the country. Pray take
her to Ventnor. How much shall I give you?'

Much surprised, and more touched, Violet, however, could not accept the
offer. She felt that it would be casting a slight on Arthur; and she
assured Lady Martindale that she hoped soon to leave London, and how
impossible it was for her to move house without Arthur. It seemed to be
a great disappointment, and opened to Violet a fresh insight into Lady
Martindale's nature; that there was a warm current beneath, only stifled
by Mrs. Nesbit's power over a docile character. There seemed to be hopes
that they might love each other at last! In the midst there was a knock
at the door, and Lord Martindale entered, much surprised, as well as
pleased, to find his wife there, though put in some perplexity by her
instantly appealing to him to tell Violet that it was very bad for the
children to remain in town, and asking if it could not be managed to
send them to the sea-side. He made a grave but kind reply, that he was
sorry for it himself, but that Violet had assured him it would not be
for long; and Lady Martindale (who did not seem able to understand
why the lady of the house could not make everything give way to her
convenience)--now becoming alive to the fear of her aunt's missing her,
and taking to heart her stolen expedition--hurried him off with her at
once. It was not till after their departure that Violet discovered that
he had been trying to atone for deficiencies, by costly gifts to herself
and her children.

All this time Theodora had been in her own room, packing, as she said,
but proceeding slowly; for there was a severe struggle of feelings, and
she could not bear that it should be seen. In the pain of parting with
Violet, she shrank from her presenc