Grace felt much distressed after this communication had opened her eyes to certain little touches of softening and consciousness that sat oddly enough on her sister.  From the first avowal of Colonel Keith’s acquaintance with the Williamses, she had concluded him to be the nameless lover, and had been disappointed that Alison, so far from completing the confidence, had become more reserved than ever, leaving her to wonder whether he were indeed the same, or whether his constancy had survived the change of circumstances.  There were no grounds on which to found a caution, yet Grace felt full of discomfort and distrust, a feeling shared by Alison, who had never forgiven herself for her half confidence, and felt that it would be wiser to tell the rest, but was withheld by knowing that her motive would actuate her sister to a contrary course.  That Colin should detach himself from her, love again, and marry, was what Ermine schooled herself to think fitting; but Alison alternated between indignant jealousy for her sister, and the desire to warn Rachel that she might at best win only the reversion of his heart.  Ermine was happy and content with his evening visits, and would not take umbrage at the daily rides, nor the reports of drawing-room warfare, and Alison often wavered between the desire of preparing her, and the doubt whether it were not cruel to inflict the present pain of want of confidence.  If that were a happy summer to some at Avonmouth, it was a very trying one to those two anxious, yet apparently uninterested sisters, who were but lookers-on at the game that affected their other selves.

At length, however, came a new feature into the quiet summer life at Avonmouth.  Colin looked in on Ermine one morning to announce, with shrugged shoulders, and a face almost making game of himself, that his brother was coming!  Lord Keith had been called to London on business, and would extend his journey to come and see what his brother was doing.

“This comes of being the youngest of the family,” observed Colin, meditatively.  “One is never supposed capable of taking care of one’s self.  With Keith I shall be the gay extravagant young officer to the end of my days.”

“You are not forgiving to your brother,” said Ermine.

“You have it in your power to make me so,” he said eagerly.

“Then you would have nothing to forgive,” she replied, smiling.

Lady Temple’s first thought was a renewal of her ardent wish that Ermine should be at Myrtlewood; and that Mackarel Lane, and the governesship should be as much as possible kept out of sight.  Even Alison was on her side; not that she was ashamed of either, but she wished that Ermine should see and judge with her own eyes of Colin’s conduct, and also eagerly hailed all that showed him still committed to her sister.  She was proportionably vexed that he did not think it expedient to harass Ermine with further invitations.

“My brother knows the whole,” he said, “and I do not wish to attempt to conceal anything.”