It threw her back sadly; but I did my utmost to rally her spirits, and
her health did not suffer so materially as I feared; but she has strong
feelings, and the impression has never been entirely removed. She
scarcely ventured to look at Arthur or at you. How could your papa have
let this child come here?'

'Is he like poor little Theodore?' said the sister.

'Only as one wretched-looking baby is like another. This one is not a
bit like the Martindales; it is exactly his mother's face.'

'Is he buried here?'

'Who--Theodore? Yes; your papa came home, and managed matters his own
way, sent off all the governesses, put John under that ignorant old
nurse, and began the precious intimacy with the Fotheringhams, that led
to such results. I could have told him how it would be; but I believe he
did repent of that!'

'Did John know about Theodore?'

'No; his sisters' death had such an effect on him that they kept the
knowledge from him. You had better never mention it, my dear; and
especially,' she added, somewhat pleadingly, 'I would not have the party
at the Prince's transpire to your papa.'

Theodora felt her indignation would not endure concealment much longer.
She called Miss Piper, and hastened away, the next moment finding
herself vis-a-vis with John.

'Are you just come in?' said he, greeting her.

'No, I have been with my aunt. How are you now?'

'Quite well, thank you. I wish you could have come to Ventnor. You would
have enjoyed it very much.'

'Thank you.'

'Have you seen Violet?'

'Yes, I have.'

'And the little boy?'

'Yes.'

'I can't say he is a beauty, but you who are such a baby fancier will
find him a very animated, intelligent child. I hope all fear is over
about him now; he has thriven wonderfully of late.'

Perverseness prompted Theodora to say, 'The baby at the lodge is twice
the size.'

John saw there was no use in talking, and shut himself into his room.
The next instant Sarah appeared, with the baby on one arm, and a pile of
clothes on the other.

No one was in sight, so Theodora could gratify her passionate yearnings
for her brother's babe; justifying herself to her own pride, by
considering it charity to an overloaded servant.

'Let me have him. Let me carry him up.'

'Thank you, ma'am, I'll not fash you,' said Sarah, stiffly.

'Let me! Oh! let me. I have often held a baby. Come to me, my precious.
Don't you know your aunt, your papa's own sister? There, he smiled at
me!