Stuart bowed low at her words.
“You are easily satisfied,” he replied; and at that moment his mother reappeared.
“Now, Vane, I am at your service. By the by, Stuart, shall we not drive you to Chesterham? I can easily drive the barouche instead of the pony carriage.”
“Oh, no, thanks!” he answered, hurriedly. “I prefer to walk.”
Mrs. Crosbie elevated her eyebrows, but made no remark; and Vane followed her aunt from the room. On reaching the door, she looked back and kissed her hand.
“Au revoir, Cousin Stuart!” she said, lightly. “Don’t stay away too long.”
Stuart waited only till the ladies had well disappeared, then he walked across the hall, caught up his tennis hat, and made his way along the colonnade to the grounds. He stopped at the entrance to the courtyard and whistled for his dogs, then, without another look round, started across the paddock to the village.
Margery was dressed early, and had packed a small basket with some home-made cakes and some apples as provender for the picnic. She had told Mrs. Morris of her holiday and Mr. Stuart’s kindness, and occupied herself with many little duties of love for the sick woman before she left her.
Mrs. Morris watched with tender eyes the slender form flitting about the room in its plain white cotton gown. All the wealth of her childless heart was bestowed on this girl, and in return she received pure and deep affection.