Just then, Harriet Brandt’s beautiful voice, accompanied by the silvery
strains of the mandoline, was heard to warble Gounod’s “Marguerite”
from the open window of the Baroness’s sitting-room. Margaret glanced
up. The apartment was brilliantly lighted--on the table were bottles
of wine and spirits, with cakes and fruit, and Madame Gobelli’s bulky
form might be seen leaning over the dishes. She had assembled quite
a little party there that night. The two Brimonts were present,
and Captain Pullen’s tall figure was distinctly visible under the
lamplight. Harriet was seated on the sofa, and her full voice filled
the atmosphere with melody. “There’s something like a voice!” remarked the old doctor. “That is the very girl we have been talking of!” replied Mrs. Pullen. “I told you she had a lovely voice, and was an accomplished musician.”

“Is that so?” said Doctor Phillips, “then she is still more dangerous
than I imagined her to be! Those tones would be enough to drag any man
down to perdition, especially if accompanied by such a nature as I
cannot but believe she must have inherited from her progenitors!”

“And see, Doctor, there is Ralph,” continued Margaret, pointing out
her brother-in-law! “I left him with Miss Leyton. He must have got
rid of her by some means and crept up to the Gobellis. He cannot go
for _them_. He is so refined, so fastidious with regard to people in
general, that a woman like the Baroness must grate upon his feelings
every time she opens her mouth, and the Baron never opens his at all. He can only frequent their company for the sake of Harriet Brandt! I
have seen it for some time past and it has made me very uneasy.”

“He shall know everything about her to-morrow, and then if he will not
hear reason--” Doctor Phillips shrugged his shoulders and said no more. “But surely,” said his companion, “you do not think for a moment that
Ralph could ever seriously contemplate breaking his engagement with
Elinor Leyton for the sake of this girl! O! how angry Arthur would be
if he suspected his brother could be guilty of such a thing--_he_, who
considers that a man’s word should be his bond!”

“It is impossible to say, Margaret--I should not like to give an
opinion on the subject. When young men are led away by their passions,
they lose sight of everything else--and if this girl is anything like
her mother, she must be an epitome of lust!”

“O! you will speak to Ralph as soon as ever you can,” cried Margaret,
in a tone of distress. “You will put the matter as strongly before him
as possible, will you not?”

“You may depend on my doing all I can, Margaret, but as there seems no
likelihood of my being able to interview the young gentleman to-night,
suppose you and I go to bed! I feel rather tired after my passage over,
and you must want to go back to your baby!”

“Doctor,” said Margaret, in a timid voice, as they ascended the hotel
staircase together, “you don’t think baby _very_ ill, do you?”

“I think she requires a great deal of care, Margaret!”

“But she has always had that!”

“I don’t doubt it, but I can’t deny that there are symptoms about her
case that I do not understand. She seems to have had all her strength
drawn out of her. She is in the condition of a child who has been
exercised and excited and hurried from place to place, far beyond what
she is able to bear. But it may arise from internal causes. I shall be
better able to judge to-morrow when my medicine has had its effect. Good-night, my dear, and don’t worry. Please God, we will have the
little one all right again in a couple of days.”

But he only said the words out of compassion. In his own opinion, the
infant was dying. Meanwhile, Harriet having finished her songs, was leaning out of the
window with Ralph Pullen by her side. She wore an open sleeve and as he
placed his hand upon her bare arm, the girl thrilled from head to foot. “And so you are determined _not_ to go to Brussels,” he whispered in
her ear. “Why should I go? You will not be there! The Baroness wants to stay for
a week! What would become of me all that time, moping after you?”

“Are you sure that you _would_ mope? Monsieur Brimont is a nice young
man, and seems quite ready to throw himself at your feet! Would he not
do as well, _pro tem_?”

Harriet’s only answer was to cast her large eyes upwards to meet his
own. “Does that mean, ‘No’?” continued Captain Pullen. “Then how would it
do, if _I_ joined you there, after a couple of days? Would the Baroness
be complaisant, do you think, and a little short-sighted, and let us
go about together, and show each other the sights of the town?”

“O! I’m sure she would!” cried Harriet, all the blood in her body
flying into her face, “she is so very kind to me! Madame Gobelli!” she
continued, turning from the window to the light, “Captain Pullen says
that if you will allow him to show us the lions of Brussels, he will
come and join us there in a couple of days--”

“If I find I can manage it!” interposed Ralph, cautiously. “Manage it! Why, of course you can manage it,” said the Baroness. “What’s to ’inder a young man like you doing as ’e chooses? You’re not
tied to your sister’s apron-string, are you? Now mind! we shall ’old
you to it, for I believe it’s the only thing that will make ’Arriet
come, and I think a week in Brussels will do us all good! You’re not
looking well yourself, you know, Captain Pullen! You’re as white as
ashes this evening, and if I didn’t know you were such a good boy, I
should say you’d been dissipating a bit lately! He! he! he!”

“The only dissipating I have indulged in, is basking in the sunshine of
your eyes, Madame!” replied Ralph gallantly. “That’s a good ’un!” retorted the Baroness, “it is more likely you’ve
been looking too much in the eyes of my little friend ’ere. You’re a
couple of foxes, that’s what you are, and I expect it would take all my
time to be looking after you both! And so I suppose it’s settled, Miss
’Arriet, and you’ll come with us to Brussels after all!”

“Yes, Madame, if you’ll take charge of me!” said Miss Brandt. “We’ll do that for a couple of days, and then we’ll give over charge. Are we to engage a room for you, Captain, at the Hôtel de Saxe?”

“I had better see after that myself, Madame, as the date of my coming
is uncertain,” replied Ralph. “But you _will_ come!” whispered Harriet. “Need you ask? Would I not run over the whole world, only to find
myself by your side? Haven’t you taken the taste out of everything else
for me, Harriet?”




CHAPTER VIII. Doctor Phillips was a man of sixty, and a bachelor. He had never
made any home ties for himself, and was therefore more interested in
Margaret Pullen (whose father had been one of his dearest friends) than
he might otherwise have been. He feared that a heavy trial lay before
her and he was unwilling to see it aggravated by any misconduct on the
part of her brother-in-law.