CHAPTER V.



Albinia needed patience to keep alive hope and energy, for a sore
disappointment awaited her. Whatever had been her annoyances with
the girls, she had always been on happy and comfortable terms with
Gilbert, he had responded to her advances, accommodated himself to
her wishes, adopted her tastes, and returned her affection. She had
early perceived that his father and sisters looked on him as the
naughty one of the family, but when she saw Lucy's fretting
interference, and, Sophia's wrangling contempt, she did not wonder
that an unjust degree of blame had often fallen to his share; and
under her management, he scarcely ever gave cause for complaint.
That he was evidently happier and better for her presence, was
compensation for many a vexation; she loved him with all her heart,
made fun with him, told legends of the freaks of her brother Maurice
and cousin Fred, and grudged no trouble for his pleasure.

As long as The Three Musqueteers lasted, he had come constantly to
her dressing-room, and afterwards she promised to find other pleasant
reading; but after such excitement, it was not easy to find anything
that did not appear dry. As the daughter of a Peninsular man, she
thought nothing so charming as the Subaltern, and Gilbert seemed to
enjoy it; but by the time he had heard all her oral traditions of the
war by way of notes, his attendance began to slacken; he stayed out
later, and always brought excuses--Mr. Salsted had kept him, he had
been with a fellow, or his pony had lost a shoe. Albinia did not