This light way of taking his tender congratulation did not quite
please Osborne, who was in a sentimental mood, and for a minute or so
he remained silent. Then, having finished making her bow of ribbon,
she turned to him, and continued in a quick low voice, anxious to
take advantage of a conversation between her mother and Molly,--
"I think I can guess why you made that pretty little speech just
now. But do you know you ought not to have been told? And, moreover,
things are not quite arrived at the solemnity of--of--well--an
engagement. He would not have it so. Now, I sha'n't say any more; and
you must not. Pray remember you ought not to have known; it is my
own secret, and I particularly wished it not to be spoken about; and
I don't like its being so talked about. Oh, the leaking of water
through one small hole!"
And then she plunged into the talk of the other two, making the
conversation general. Osborne was rather discomfited at the
non-success of his congratulations; he had pictured to himself the
unbosoming of a love-sick girl, full of rapture, and glad of a
sympathizing confidant. He little knew Cynthia's nature. The more she
suspected that she was called upon for a display of emotion, the less
would she show; and her emotions were generally under the control of
her will. He had made an effort to come and see her; and now he leant
back in his chair, weary and a little dispirited.
"You poor dear young man," said Mrs. Gibson, coming up to him with
her soft, soothing manner; "how tired you look! Do take some of that
eau-de-Cologne and bathe your forehead. This spring weather overcomes
me too. 'Primavera' I think the Italians call it. But it is very
trying for delicate constitutions, as much from its associations as
from its variableness of temperature. It makes me sigh perpetually;
but then I am so sensitive. Dear Lady Cumnor always used to say I was
like a thermometer. You've heard how ill she has been?"
"No," said Osborne, not very much caring either.
"Oh, yes, she is better now; but the anxiety about her has tried me
so: detained here by what are, of course, my duties, but far away
from all intelligence, and not knowing what the next post might
bring."
"Where was she then?" asked Osborne, becoming a little more
sympathetic.
"At Spa. Such a distance off! Three days' post! Can't you conceive
the trial? Living with her as I did for years; bound up in the family
as I was."
"But Lady Harriet said, in her last letter, that they hoped she would
be stronger than she had been for years," said Molly, innocently.