He found her propped up with pillows this time. She begged him to be seated.
She had evidently something on her mind, and her nurses watched her like cats.
"You are fond of music, sir?"
"Not of all music. I adore good music, I hate bad, and I despise mediocre. Silence is golden, indeed, compared with poor music.""You are right, sir. Have you good music in the house?""A little. I get all the operas, and you know there are generally one or two good things in an opera--among the rubbish. But the great bulk of our collection is rather old-fashioned. It is sacred music--oratorios, masses, anthems, services, chants. My mother was the collector. Her tastes were good, but narrow. Do you care for that sort of music?""Sacred music? Why, it is, of all music, the most divine, and soothes the troubled soul. Can I not see the books? I read music like words. By reading I almost hear.""We will bring you up a dozen books to begin on."He went down directly; and such was his pleasure in doing anything for the Klosking that he executed the order in person, brought up a little pile of folios and quartos, beautifully bound and lettered, a lady having been the collector.
Now, as he mounted the stairs, with his very chin upon the pile, who should he see looking over the rails at him but his sister Zoe.
She was sadly changed. There was a fixed ashen pallor on her cheek, and a dark circle under her eyes.
He stopped to look at her. "My poor child," said he, "you look very ill.""I am very ill, dear."
"Would you not be better for a change?"
"I might."
"Why coop yourself up in your own room? Why deny yourself a brother's sympathy?"The girl trembled, and tears came to her eyes.
"Is it with me you sympathize?" said she.
"Can you doubt it, Zoe?"
Zoe hung her head a moment, and did not reply. Then she made a diversion.
"What are those books? Oh, I see--your mother's music-books. Nothing is too good for _her."_"Nothing in the way of music-books is too good for her. For shame! are you jealous of that unfortunate lady?"Zoe made no reply.
She put her hands before her face, that Vizard might not see her mind.
Then he rested his books on a table, and came and took her head in his hands paternally. "Do not shut yourself up any longer. Solitude is dangerous to the afflicted. Be more with me than ever, and let this cruel blow bind us more closely, instead of disuniting us."He kissed her lovingly, and his kind words set her tears flowing; but they did her little good--they were bitter tears. Between her and her brother there was now a barrier sisterly love could not pass. He hated and despised Edward Severne; and she only distrusted him, and feared he was a villain. She loved him still with every fiber of her heart, and pined for his explanation of all that seemed so dark.
So then he entered the sick-room with his music-books; and Zoe, after watching him in without seeming to do so, crept away to her own room.
Then there was rather a pretty little scene. Miss Gale and Miss Dover, on each side of the bed, held a heavy music-book, and Mademoiselle Klosking turned the leaves and read, when the composition was worth reading. If it was not, she quietly passed it over, without any injurious comment.
Vizard watched her from the foot of the bed, and could tell in a moment, by her face, whether the composition was good, bad, or indifferent. When bad, her face seemed to turn impassive, like marble; when good, to expand; and when she lighted on a masterpiece, she was almost transfigured, and her face shone with elevated joy.
This was a study to the enamored Vizard, and it did not escape the quick-sighted doctress. She despised music on its own merits, but she despised nothing that could be pressed into the service of medicine; and she said to herself, "I'll cure her with esculents and music."The book was taken away to make room for another.
Then said Ina Klosking, "Mr. Vizard, I desire to say a word to you.
Excuse me, my dear friends."
Miss Gale colored up. She had not foreseen a _te'te-'a-te'te_ between Vizard and her patient. However, there was no help for it, and she withdrew to a little distance with Fanny; but she said to Vizard, openly and expressively, "Remember!"When they had withdrawn a little way, Ina Klosking fixed her eyes on Vizard, and said, in a low voice, "Your sister!"Vizard started a little at the suddenness of this, but he said nothing:
he did not know what to say.
When she had waited a little, and he said nothing, she spoke again. "Tell me something about her. Is she good? Forgive me: it is not that I doubt.""She is good, according to her lights."
"Is she proud?"
"Yes."
"Is she just?"
"No. And I never met a woman that was."
"Indeed it is rare. Why does she not visit me?""I don't know"
"She blames me for all that has happened.""I don't know, madam. My sister looks very ill, and keeps her own room.
If she does not visit you, she holds equally aloof from us all. She has not taken a single meal with me for some days.""Since I was your patient and your guest.""Pray do not conclude from that--Who can interpret a woman?""Another woman. Enigmas to you, we are transparent to each other. Sir, will you grant me a favor? Will you persuade Miss Vizard to see me here alone--all alone? It will be a greater trial to me than to her, for I am weak. In this request I am not selfish. She can do nothing for me; but Ican do a little for her, to pay the debt of gratitude I owe this hospitable house. May Heaven bless it, from the roof to the foundation stone!""I will speak to my sister, and she shall visit you--with the consent of your physician.""It is well," said Ina Klosking, and beckoned her friends, one of whom, Miss Gale, proceeded to feel her pulse, with suspicious glances at Vizard. But she found the pulse calm, and said so.
Vizard took his leave and went straight to Zoe's room. She was not there.
He was glad of that, for it gave him hopes she was going to respect his advice and give up her solitary life.
He went downstairs and on to the lawn to look for her. He could not see her anywhere.
