"If it is," Sidney said quietly, "father and I mean to go and leave them in possession."
"My dear girl, what do you mean?"
"It is something we have discovered lately—the house is legally my uncle's. I cannot go into details. We have lived together many years without any necessity for making this known; in fact, we were not aware of it ourselves till lately."
"But I happen to remember and to know more than you do, Sidney," said Mrs. de Cressiers gravely. "I remember when your grandfather died, and when your uncle was 'sowing his wild oats,' as people say. He sent word he did not want to take the house and would not settle down, and then sold it to your father."
"I did not know you remembered it all," faltered Sidney. "Well, there was no legal transaction between them, it seems, and—"
"But your uncle is an honourable man."
"Oh, yes—yes; but please don't talk of the past or refer to it. Mrs. Urquhart does not see it as we do; she worries him till he begins to look at things in a different light; and we have decided that we had better go—at least, I think we shall do so. Nothing is absolutely settled yet."
Mrs. de Cressiers looked almost dazed.
"I shall begin to think as hardly of her as Jockie does. That girl is a strange mixture. Do you know she has been coming up and playing draughts with my poor husband, and chatting away to him so entertainingly that he quite enjoys her visits. But, my dear Sidney, you and your father must not leave this neighbourhood. You really must not. Why, it will break your father's heart. He is bound up with that house and those old guns. I shall have to go down and have a talk with your uncle, I think."
The colour mounted in Sidney's cheeks. She raised her head proudly.