"I shan't be too tired," said Virginia, smiling at the old lady. "Dick has often told me about you, Miss Clinton, but you know I have never been in Kencote before."
The Rector had given Aunt Laura some hint of the difficulty there had been over the engagement, and she said soothingly, "I know, my dear, I know. But I have no doubt you will be here very often now, and I am sure nobody will be more pleased to see you than I shall. Dear me, what with Walter and Cicely being married two years ago and Dick and Humphrey about to be married, one feels one belongs to a family in which things are always happening. I only wish that my dear sisters had been alive to take part in it all. They would have been so pleased. But the last of them died last year, as no doubt Dick has told you, and I am no longer able to welcome you in our old home. But I have a very nice little house in the village, and if you will come and drink a cup of tea with me I shall feel great gratification, and I will show you some of my treasures. Tell me, Dick, for my eyes are not quite what they were, is that our Cousin Humphrey?"
It was, in fact, Lord Meadshire, who in spite of a cold, which made him hoarser than ever, had driven over with his daughter, and now, looking frail and shrunken in his heavy fur coat, but indomitably determined to make the best of life, came slowly across the gravel to greet once again the only member of his own generation left alive amongst all his relations.
"Well, Laura," he said, "this is like old times, eh?" and then he recognised Virginia, and showed, although he did not say so, that he was pleasantly surprised to see her there.
"You have heard, I suppose, Humphrey," said Aunt Laura, with obvious pride in being first with the news, "that we are shortly to have yet another wedding in the family. I have not seen dear Edward yet; I have no doubt he is busy indoors, but will be out soon—and I shall be able to tell him how glad I am that everything is happily settled."
Lord Meadshire's sharp old eyes twinkled up at Virginia, and at Dick, who said, "Don't you say anything to him about it yet, Aunt Laura. He's not quite ready for it"; and Lord Meadshire added, "You've been given early news, Laura. We must keep it to ourselves until it is published abroad—what? My dear"—this to Virginia—"I needn't tell you how glad I am, and I wish you every possible happiness and prosperity."
He stayed to chat for a few minutes with Aunt Laura after Virginia and Dick had moved away. "It seems but yesterday," said Aunt Laura, "that my dear father, who, of course, kept these hounds, entertained his friends here in just such a way as this, and I was a little girl with all my dear sisters, and you were a young man, Humphrey, very gay and active, riding over and talking and laughing with everybody. And it is just the same pretty scene now as it was then, although all the people who took part in it are dead, except you and I."
"My dear Laura," wheezed Lord Meadshire, "I'm gay and active now, if it comes to that, and so are you, in your heart of hearts. Come, let us forget that tiresome number of years that lies behind us and go and amuse ourselves with the rest. If I stand out here in the cold, I shall have Emily after me—what?"
So Aunt Laura was helped out of her Bath chair, and they went into the house together slowly, and arm in arm.
The Squire hastened to meet them and find chairs for them, rather uncomfortably near the fire. He was loud in his expressions of pleasure at seeing his kinsman there, and not unmindful, either, of the comfort of Aunt Laura. He would have been beyond measure scandalised at the charge of treating her with increased consideration since he had learnt of her wealth, and indeed he had shown himself, as has been said, indifferent to the possibility of her being wealthy, but there was no doubt that she had increased in importance in his eyes during the last week or two, and she was accordingly treated more as a personage at Kencote than she had ever been before in her life.