"I am sure," said Janet, again exerting herself to speak calmly and distinctly, "that your visits here will always be welcome to my guardian--to Philippa;" and after a moment's pause she added, "and to myself."
Heathcote had only time to thank her, by another of those brief, bright glances, so precious in her eyes, when she was summoned to the piano to play the accompaniment to a new ballad, delightfully warbled by Philippa, and she was gratified to observe that Heathcote followed her, and kept his post by the instrument during the greater part of the evening.
Happy was the little party of lovers during the next fortnight. Captain Warrington and Heathcote were constantly at Mr. Chetwode's house, constantly accompanying Philippa and Janet in walks, drives, and visits to morning exhibitions. No young persons ever enjoyed their own way more than the wards of Mr. Chetwode. He had a decided aversion to the idea of a _dame de compagnie_ in the house; consequently, although the wife of one of his friends always chaperoned Philippa and Janet in society, their mornings were entirely at their own disposal. Mr. Chetwode spent the greater part of every day comfortably ensconced in his luxurious easy-chair at the club, wielding a paper-knife in one hand, and holding a new review, magazine, or pamphlet, in the other; and if he thought at all about his wards, he concluded them to be occupied in netting purses, watering geraniums, petting canaries, or reading "The Queens of England."
At the end of the fortnight, the member of the party whom my readers will conclude to be the happiest began to feel somewhat anxious, nervous, and discontented. Poor Janet, although the most humble-minded of living creatures, felt greatly mortified that her intimacy with Heathcote did not seem in the slightest manner to progress; he was still kind, courteous, and considerate to her, as he had ever been, but nothing more. She had given him every encouragement that he could expect, but he did not fulfil the promises of his poetry; he never uttered a word that could even be construed into "talking near" the subject of love. Janet mentioned this apparent inconsistency to Philippa.
"Did I not warn you, dear Janet," said her friend, laughingly, "that you were affixing too much importance to a trifle? You should not expect an admirer to fulfil all the promises of a valentine; you might as reasonably expect a member of Parliament to fulfil the promises that he had made during his canvass."