She dashed her hand across her eyes, though there were no tears in them, and stood upright, holding herself tensely as if she were battling for calm; then she replaced the poignant note in its envelope, and went back to the stables. Again she met no one, for those who were down were in at breakfast.
"I have changed my mind, Pottinger," she said; "and will be glad if you will take the notes, please. See, I have put them back in the wallet."
"Certainly, miss!" said Pottinger, and he touched his forehead two or three times, and coloured and smiled awkwardly and looked at her with a new and vivid interest. One of the maids had run into the stable, during Maud's absence, and had told him the news that his master was engaged to Miss Maude Falconer; for the servants, who are so quick to discover all our little secrets, had already learnt this one, and the servants' hall was buzzing with it.
CHAPTER XXV.
That morning Ida came down-stairs singing, not loudly, but in the soft undertone which a girl uses when she is supremely happy and she has hopes of seeing the cause of her happiness very soon. All through breakfast, while Mr. Heron read his letters, opening them and reading them stealthily as usual, her heart was singing its love-song to her, and she was wondering whether she would meet Stafford by the stream or among the hills. That she should meet him she felt quite sure, for he had never failed to leave the gay party at the Villa to come over to her every day.
Perhaps he had spoken to his father, and, in the wonderful way men have, had swept aside all the obstacles which stood against their union. He was so strong, so self-reliant, so masterful—though so gentle with her—that surely no obstacles could stand against him. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost started when Jason appeared and, looking from her to Mr. Heron, announced that Mr. Wordley, the family lawyer, was in the library.
Mr. Heron flushed and scrambled his letters and papers together as he rose.
"Won't Mr. Wordley come in and have some breakfast?" suggested Ida. But her father, shaking his head impatiently, said that Mr. Wordley was sure to have had his breakfast, and shuffled out of the room.
A few minutes after he had gone, Jessie came in for the day's orders, and Ida dragged her thoughts away from the all-absorbing subject and plunged into housekeeping. It was not a lengthy or a very elaborate business, alas! but when it was over Jessie lingered and began collecting the breakfast things, glancing shyly at Ida, as she always did when she wanted to gossip.
"There was fine doings up at the Villa last night, Miss Ida!" she began, rather timidly, for Ida seldom encouraged her chatter. "There was a ball there. Such a tremendous grand affair! There hasn't been anything like it ever known in this country. Williams was up there this morning, and Susie told him that it was like fairyland, what with the beautiful rooms and the music and the ladies' rich dresses and jewels. She got a peep through one of the open doors, and she says it quite took her breath away."