"Perhaps he is not so bad as you suppose," said Horace.
"He is a great deal worse than anybody supposes," cried Amelia, with a little sob. "Here, you--Harriet--Emma! Run up this moment, and knock at the door, and ask how dear papa is; whether there is any change. I am so afraid to hear there is any change; the words sound so dreadful--don't they, Mr. Scarsdale?--and when it is one's father! Oh! what a long time that child loiters. I must run myself! Wait just a moment, please."
And Amelia swept away, upsetting a chair in her progress, and almost puffing out one of the candles on the table by the current of air which attended her movements. She came back again a few minutes after, breathless, but walking with great solemnity.
"He is no better--there is no difference, Mr. Scarsdale," she said, with a great sigh, seating herself with the deepest seriousness, casting down her eyes, and shaking her head. Horace watched her through all this pantomime with glowing eyes. Not that he remarked or commented on the character which thus showed itself: he cared no more for Amelia's character than he did for her grandmother's; but from the splendid black hair wreathed round her head, to the little foot which came out from under her wide drapery, and upon which her own downcast eyes were fixed, the young man devoured her with his gaze of bold and selfish passion. He should have her yet, whoever might object: she should belong to him, whether she would or not. That was the pivot of his fancy; and all Amelia's pretty trickery was nothing to her thorough-going admirer, nor did he even feel himself reminded of his special errand here, or of the suffering man upon whom "as yet"--ominous words--there was no change!
Perhaps neither of the young people knew very well how long Horace remained in that deserted drawing-room, which had so strange an air of agitation to-night upon all its familiar aspects, and which, though nothing was changed, bore somehow so clear an impression of being no longer the centre of interest, but rather a forsaken corner out of the current. After a while, however, the _tête-à-tête_ was rudely interrupted by the staggering entrance of Mr. Stenhouse's man-of-all-work, carrying in his arms the invalid boy with whom Horace had made private acquaintance on his first visit here.