Rose and Henrietta were momentarily united in their common amazement at the genuineness of this sorrow and to both there was something comic in the picture of the elderly Caroline, suffering from a chill and bemoaning the loss of an evening’s pleasure. Henrietta cast a look of scornful surprise at her Aunt Sophia. Was the Battys’ ball a matter for a broken heart? Rose said consolingly, “It isn’t till after Christmas. Perhaps she will be well enough.”
“And Christmas,” Sophia wailed. “Henrietta’s first Christmas here! With Caroline upstairs!”
“I don’t like Christmas,” Henrietta said. “It makes me miserable.”
“But you will like the ball,” Rose said. “Why, if it hadn’t been for the ball we might have been in Algiers now.”
“With Caroline ill! I should have sent for you.”
“Shall we start, Henrietta, in a few weeks’ time?” She ignored Henrietta’s vague murmur. “Oh, not until Caroline is quite well, Sophia. We could go to the south of France, Henrietta. Yes, I think we had better arrange that.” Rose felt a slightly malicious pleasure in this proposal which became a serious one as she spoke. “You must learn to speak French, and it is a long time since I have been abroad. It will be a kindness to me. I don’t care to go alone. We have no engagements after the middle of January, so shall we settle to go then?” There was authority in her tone. “We shall avoid brigands, Sophia, but I think we ought to go. It is not fair that Henrietta’s experiences should be confined to Radstowe.”
“Quite right, dear.” Sophia was unwillingly but nobly truthful. “We have a duty to her father, but say nothing to Caroline until she is stronger.”
Henrietta was silent but she had a hot rage in her heart. She felt herself in a trap and she looked with sudden hatred and suspicion at her Aunt Rose. It was impossible to defy that calm authority. She would have to go, in merest gratitude she must consent; she would be carried off, but she looked round wildly for some means of escape.
The prospect of that exile spoilt a Christmas which otherwise would not have been a miserable one, for the Malletts made it a charming festival with inspired ideas for gifts and a delightful party on Christmas Day, when Caroline was allowed to appear. She refused to say that she was better; she had never been ill; it was a mere fad of the doctor and her sisters; she supposed they were tired of her and wanted a little peace. However, she continued to absorb large quantities of strengthening food, beef tea, meat jelly and heady tonic, for she loved food, and she was determined to go to the ball.