When a break came, he made a slight forward movement, and spoke again, pausing between the words—
"I thank you—one and all. You have made easier—what was, as Mr. Winton says—not easy! I thank you all—from the bottom of my heart!"
Katherine had stepped nearer, and now stood beside him, her arm in his. "Come," she whispered, "you must rest!" He obeyed, walking with a slow step, almost groping his way, as if unable to see.
The old family doctor had come forward, and Dick held back. He knew that he would not be wanted there. He sent one eager glance towards where Doris still waited; then, forgetting all else, and ignoring the crowd around, he turned to the Rector.
"This—will it make any difference?" he asked, in a low voice of concentrated eagerness. "Now that you know who my father was?"
Mr. Winton caught sight of his wife, laboriously threading her way through the throng, plainly bent upon being one of the first to congratulate the new heir. He gripped Dick's hand with a hearty shake.
"I rather think it will!" he said. "You'd better just ask—her!"
The gesture which indicated Mrs. Winton might almost equally have indicated Doris. Dick accepted it for both. Then the Rector, full of foreboding, made his escape to the study. He knew what the terrific strain of the last hour must have been to that proud and reserved nature. It did not surprise him to find on the sofa a prostrate and powerless form. But the changed face of the Squire wore a look of repose, to which it had long been a stranger.
"That was well done, my friend!" Mr. Winton said in stirred tones, by his side.
The old doctor watched in suspense, to see whether the words would reach their objective. Perhaps they did. A faint smile flickered; and the drawn lips murmured one word—"Mary!"