Mr. Wordley inclined his head.
"The estate is not entailed, as you observed, Lord Bannerdale; and my client, Miss Ida Heron, inherits everything."
They drew a breath of relief, and nodded assentingly; and presently they made a general movement of departure. Lord Bannerdale lingered behind the others. "I won't ask the poor child to see me, Mr. Wordley," he said. "Will you therefore be good enough to give her Lady Bannerdale's love, and to tell her that, as Lady Bannerdale has written to her, we shall be more than pleased if she will come to us at the Court. She is to consider it her home for just as long as she should please; and we shall feel it a pleasure and an honour to have her amongst us as one of our own. Of course she cannot remain alone here, in this great place."
The old lawyer bowed.
"I will give her your kind message, for which I thank you on her behalf, Lord Bannerdale. I do not know what she will do, or where she will go; at present she is not in a condition to discuss any plans for her future, though to-day she expressed a desire to remain at the Hall." He paused for a moment before he added: "I do not know whether she can do so."
"My cousin is young, and a mere child, and she must follow the advice of her elders and her guardian. The future of even the sparrow is in higher hands than ours, and we know not what a day may bring forth," said Mr. John Heron, grimly, and with an uplifting of his heavy brows.
"Quite so," said Lord Bannerdale, who had taken a great dislike for the sanctimonious speaker, and who could scarcely repress a shudder as he shook Mr. John Heron's cold and clammy hand.
When they had all gone, Mr. Wordley said:
"We had better go into the library and talk matters over. I will send for Miss Ida. It seems cruel to disturb her at such a moment, but there is no help for it."
"You speak as if you had bad tidings, Mr. Wordley, to give us," said
John Heron.