"And Lucy is to have the poverty?" said Ayala, indignantly.
"I think it probable, my dear, that before long Lucy will become the wife of Mr. Hamel."
"And you want to get rid of me?" demanded Ayala.
"No, my dear; not so. You must not think that for a moment. The proposition has not originated with me at all. I am endeavouring to do my duty by explaining to you the advantages which you would enjoy by going to your Aunt Emmeline, and which you certainly cannot have if you remain here. And I must tell you, that, if you return to Sir Thomas, he will probably provide for you. You know what I mean by providing for you?"
"No, I don't," said Ayala, who had in her mind some dim idea that her cousin Tom was supposed to be a provision. She was quite aware that her Aunt Margaret, in her explanation as hitherto given, had not mentioned Tom's name, and was sure that it had not been omitted without reason.
"By providing, I mean that if you are living in his house he will leave you something in his will;—as would be natural that he should do for a child belonging to him. Your Uncle Reginald"—this she said in a low and very serious tone—"will, I fear, have nothing to leave to you." Then there was silence for some minutes, after which Mrs. Dosett asked the important question, "Well, Ayala, what do you think about it?"
"Must I go?" said Ayala. "May I stay?"
"Yes, my dear; you may certainly stay if you wish it."
"Then I will stay," said Ayala, jumping up on to her feet. "You do not want to turn me out, Aunt Margaret?" Then she went down on her knees, and, leaning on her aunt's lap, looked up into her face. "If you will keep me I will try to be good."
"My dear, you are good. I have nothing to complain of. Of course we will keep you. Nobody has thought for a moment of bidding you go. But you should understand that when your aunt made the proposition I was bound to tell it you." Then there was great embracing and kissing, and Ayala felt that she was relieved from a terrible danger. She had often declared that no one could make her marry her cousin Tom; but it had seemed to her for a moment that if she were given up bodily to the Tringles no mode of escape would be open to her short of suicide. There had been a moment almost of regret that she had never brought herself to regard Jonathan Stubbs as an Angel of Light.