Mrs. Henley, in the richest of all silks, looked magnificent and superior. Mrs. Edmonstone had tears in her eyes, and attended to every one softly and kindly, without a word; Charlotte was grave, helpful, and thoughtful; Charles watching every one, and intent on making things smooth; Laura looked fixed in the forced composure which she had long ago learnt, and Philip,--it was late before he appeared at all, and when he came down, there was nothing so plainly written on his face as headache.
It was so severe that the most merciful thing was to send him to lie on the sofa in the dressing-room. Amabel said she would fetch him some camphor, and disappeared, while Laura sat still with her forced composure. Her father fidgeted, only restrained by her presence from expressing his fears that Philip was too unwell for the marriage to take place to-day, and Charles talked cheerfully of the great improvement in his general health, saying this was but a chance thing, and that on the whole he might be considered as quite restored.
Mrs. Henley listened and answered, but could not comprehend the state of things. Breakfast was over, when she heard Amabel speaking to Laura in the ante-room.
'It will go off soon. Here is a cup of hot coffee for you to take him. I'll call you when it is time to go.'
Amabel and Charlotte were very busy looking after Laura's packing up, and putting all that was wanted into the carriage, in which the pair were to set off at once from church, without returning to Hollywell.
At the last moment she went to warn Philip it was time to go, if he meant to walk to church alone, the best thing for his head.
'It is better,' said Laura, somewhat comforted.
'Much better for your bathing it, thank you,' said Philip, rising; then, turning to Amy,--'Do I wish you good-bye now?'
'No, I shall see you at church, unless you don't like to have my blackness there.'
'Would we not have our guardian angel, Laura?' said Philip.
'You know he would have been there,' said Amy. 'No one would have been more glad, so thank you for letting me come.'
'Thank you for coming,' said Laura, earnestly. 'It is a comfort.'
They left her, and she stood a few minutes to enjoy the solitude, and to look from the window at her little girl, whom she had sent out with Anne. She was just about to open the window to call to her, and make her look up with one of her merry shouts of 'Mamma!' when Philip came out at the garden-door, and was crossing the lawn. Mary was very fond of him, flattered by the attention of the tallest person in the house, and she stretched her arms, and gave a cry of summons. Amabel watched him turn instantly, take her from her nurse, and hold her in a close embrace, whilst her little round arms met round his neck. She was unwilling to be restored to Anne, and when he left she looked up in his face, and unprompted, held up to him the primroses and violets in her hand.