"I am very glad," she said.
Stella took the thin, white hand, and held it for a moment; then Lady Lilian looked from one to the other.
Lord Leycester interpreted the glance at once.
"Miss Etheridge has intrusted herself on the watery deep with me," he said. "We came across to gather flowers, leaving Mr. Etheridge to paint there."
And he waved his hand across the river.
Lady Lilian looked.
"I see," she said—"I see. And he is painting. Is he not clever? How proud you must be of him!"
Stella's eyes grew dark. It was the one word wanting to draw them together. She said not a word.
"Your uncle and I are old friends," Lady Lilian continued. "Sometime when—when I am stronger, I am coming to see him—when the weather gets warmer—" Stella glanced at the frail form clad in sables, with a moistened eye—"I am going to spend a long afternoon among the pictures. He is always so kind and patient, and explains them all to me. But, as I am not able to come to you, you will come and see me, will you not?"