"No, there is Miss Redmond, his sister, a cripple from rheumatism, and his ward, a horrid, supercilious creature; and in the shooting season, he always has a house full. He rents the shooting of Crowmore as well. Papa lets it—he lets everything."
Her cousin's eyes travelled reflectively along the extensive demesne wall, and she said,—
"Crowmore is a large estate, is it not?"
"Yes; but you need not run away with the notion that it is a fine property. We are as poor as rats. On the other hand, Mr. Redmond is as rich as a Jew."
"Dido, do tell me who is the unfortunate English girl who has such a painful effect on Mr. Chute," inquired Helen, as she and her relatives strolled up the avenue arm-in-arm.
"Oh, she is not nearly as bad as he makes out, though personally I do not like her," replied Dido frankly. "She is the girl we were speaking of just now; a Miss Calderwood—Kate Calderwood—a great heiress."
"Has she freckles and high shoulders?"—halting as she asked the question.
"How on earth did you know?" cried Dido in amazement. "Her shoulders are up to her ears, and she is as freckled as a turkey's egg! But for all that they say she is engaged to be married,—and to such a good-looking man, to Mr. Redmond's favourite nephew, Gilbert Lisle."