“I’m sure I’m most grateful,” said the little lady.  “There, my dear, Aunt Jane was saying only yesterday how dull it was without the child.  But are you sure she can be spared, Mrs. Rolleston?”

“Only to you,” said the lady, kindly, but smiling a little, for certainly her duties were not very onerous.

Bluebell, an anxious listener, felt her heart sink at this proposal.  What, go away and leave Bertie, whose daily presence had become a necessity to her!  Besides, dreadful thought! his leave might be over ere she returned.  In desperation she said, imploringly, “Mamma will not want me for more than a day or two,” and gazed anxiously at Mrs. Rolleston, with a world of unspoken entreaty in her eyes.

The appeal was injudicious, only confirming her impression that it was a separation from Jack Bluebell dreaded, and she mentally put on another week to her banishment.

“There’s no hurry,” said the lady, decidedly; “a change will do you good.  She shall walk over to-morrow, Mrs. Leigh; and I am very glad I thought of it.”

Bluebell, thinking all was lost, tried not to show her dismay, which would have grieved her mother and done no good; but she remembered, with a sinking heart, that Du Meresq was to dine out that night, and she might get no opportunity of speaking to him alone before changing her quarters.

“I must be off home,” said Mrs. Leigh.  “Several little things to be done in your room, Bluebell.  The stove-pipe has got choked at the elbow, and I must have the sweep in.”

Her daughter longed to suggest that it might be more convenient to postpone her appearance for a day; but as Mrs. Rolleston said nothing, she could not either.

Jack, who had been all this time writhing with vexation at his mal-a-propos remark, here saw a chance of propitiating Bluebell and putting himself on visiting terms at her home.

“My cutter is at the door,” said he, addressing Mrs. Rolleston.  “If Mrs. Leigh will allow me, I shall be too happy to drive her home.”

“Oh, he must be going to propose,” thought the former lady, “and they won’t have twopence between them;” but she could only reply,—­

“Well, Mrs. Leigh, what do you say?  Will you trust yourself to Mr. Vavasour?”

“I’m sure,” said the little lady, flutteringly, “the gentleman is most kind; but I am so timid with horses unless they are quite old.  Does your horse kick, sir?”

“Only if the rein gets under her tail.”

“Ah, I should be sure to scream and snatch it—­the reins, I mean, and they say that isn’t safe driving.  I had better walk; and yet it is getting dark, and I shall miss the car.  What shall I do, Colonel Rolleston?”

“Drive, to be sure,” said he, who wanted to get rid of them both.  “Vavasour only upsets when he gives the reins to young ladies,” with a glance at Bluebell.

“Well, I should like a ride in a sleigh, if my poor nerves will let me enjoy it,” toddling to the door with Colonel Rolleston.