“No, my dearest Arthur, it must now take its course.  Pain as it is to me, I will not rudely check my child’s affections, that will not bring them back to me.  She may, one day, discover her error, and will then gladly return to that love, that tenderness, of which she now thinks but lightly.  I must endeavour to wait till that day comes, with all the patience I can teach my heart to feel,” she added, with a smile.  “Perhaps I am demanding more than is my due.  It is not often we find young girls willing to be contented with their mother only as a friend; they pine for novelty, for companions of their own age, whom they imagine can sympathise better in their feelings.  A child is all in all to a mother, though a parent is but one link in the life of a child; yet my children have so long looked on me as a friend, that, perhaps, I feel this loss of confidence the more painfully.”

“But you will regain it, my Emmeline; our Caroline is only dazzled now, she will soon discover the hollowness of Annie’s professions of everlasting friendship.”

Mrs. Hamilton shook her head.

“I doubt it, my dear husband.  The flattering warmth with which Annie first met Caroline has disappointed me.  I thought and hoped that here, surrounded by all her fashionable acquaintances, she would rather have neglected her former friends, and Caroline’s pride taking umbrage, their intimacy would have been at once dissolved.  Instead of this, Annie never fails to treat her with the most marked distinction, evidently appearing to prefer her much above her other friends; and, therefore, as in this instance Caroline has found my warnings and suspicions needless and unjust, she is not likely to permit my opinion of Annie to gain much ascendancy.”

“But deceived as we have been in this instance, my dear Emmeline, may we not be so in other points of Annie’s character?  She is evidently devoted to fashion and fashionable pleasures, but still there may be some good qualities lurking round her heart, which her intimacy with Caroline may bring forward.”

“I hope it may be so,” replied Mrs. Hamilton, fervently, though somewhat doubtingly.  “For her father’s sake, as well as that of my child’s, I wish her disposition may be different to that which I, perhaps uncharitably, believe it.  You must give me a portion of your sanguine and trusting hopes, my dearest Arthur,” she continued, fondly laying her hand in his.

Mr. Hamilton returned a playful answer, and endeavoured to turn the thoughts of his wife to other and more pleasurable subjects.  Anxiety such as hers could not be entirely dispelled, but it was lessened, for she had imparted it to her husband, and his watchful care would combine with her own to guard their child.