one
wants repose at home. That burgomaster is my model.'
He continued to find sights for them, showing Violet more lions of
London than had ever come in her way. One day, when a thunder-storm
hindered their going to the Zoological Gardens, he stayed the whole
afternoon reading to them. In the midst, Violet thought of last
September's storm; she looked up--an idea flashed upon her!
'How delightful! How well they suit! I shall have my Annette close to
me! They can marry at once! My father will be satisfied. How happy they
will be! It will be the repose he wants. Dear Annette, what will she not
be under his training!' The joyous impulse was to keep him to dinner;
but she had scruples about inviting him in Arthur's absence, and
therefore only threw double warmth into her farewells. Her spirits were
up to nonsense pitch, and she talked and laughed all the evening with
such merriment as Annette had hardly ever known in her.
But when she was alone, and looked her joy in the face, she was amazed
to find how she had been forgetting Theodora, whose affairs had lately
been uppermost. Annette might be worth a hundred Theodoras: but that did
not alter right and justice.
If Theodora was accepting the Earl! Violet knew he was at Baden; he
could not yet have been dismissed: and the sister-in-law had proved
a disappointing correspondent, her nature being almost as averse to
letter-writing as was Arthur's. Let her marry him, and all would be
well. The question, however, really lay between Percy and Annette
themselves; and Violet thought he had made a wise discovery in
preferring her gentle, yielding sister to the former lady of his choice.
Matters might take their course; Arthur would be gratified by this
testimony to her family's perfections; John would rejoice in whatever
was for his friend's real happiness; to herself, in every way, it would
be complete felicity.
Still she hesitated. She had heard of pique driving persons to make
a fresh choice, when a former attachment appeared obliterated by
indignation, only to revive too late, and to be the misery of all
parties. Percy's late words, harsh when he fancied them indifferent,
made her doubtful whether it might not be so in his case. In his sound
principle she had entire confidence, but he might be in error as to the
actual state of his sentiments; and she knew that she should dread, for
the peace of mind of all parties, his first meeting, as her sister's
husband, with eith
|