The Squire coming in at this moment with Mrs. Clinton greeted Virginia as if she were his daughter, and it being on the stroke of eight immediately led her in to dinner. He was in the best of spirits, and talked and laughed, during the whole of the meal, in his old, rather boisterous fashion. Gone were the moody silences and the frowning perplexity of a few months back. He had not, apparently, a care in the world, and, with his healthy, rubicund visage, and active, though massive form, looked as if he were prepared to enjoy the good things with which his life was filled for a further indefinite number of years.
There was only one little shadow of a cloud. As he got into bed that night, he said, "I'm very glad you asked old Miss Bird here, Nina. She's a faithful old soul, and it does me good to see her about the place. She seems to belong to it, and it brings us back to where we were before all this infernal worry came to us."
"We are better off than we were then," said Mrs. Clinton, "for you were worrying about Dick getting married, and now his marriage has come about and you need worry over it no longer."
"Ah, yes," said the Squire. "I remember I did say something to you, and to him too, just before he sprang it on us—what was in his mind. If I had known Virginia then it would have saved us months of bother. I've never quite forgiven Dick for not introducing me to her at first. I should have given way at once, of course. However, we needn't think about that now; but now this little chap of Walter's has come—I must go over and have a look at him to-morrow—it does make me wish that we were in the way of looking forward to a son of Dick's. I suppose, Nina——"
"There is plenty of time to hope for that," said Mrs. Clinton.
"I suppose there is, and we mustn't be impatient. Still, I shan't be quite easy in my mind about the succession until there are children at the dower-house. However, the matter is in higher hands than ours, and there's never failed an heir to Kencote yet. How long was Virginia married before?"
"Seven years, I think," said Mrs. Clinton.
"Ah, well, if the worst comes to the worst, there's a boy Clinton sleeping over at Mountfield now, and we must put up with our disappointment. Good-night, Nina. God bless you!"