"I have never thought of it. I have always considered myself as having, so to speak, finished with life."
"You have made a great mistake, but it is one that fortunately can be remedied."
Lady Hampton rose from her seat, and walked a few steps forward.
"I have put his thoughts in the right groove," she mused; "but I ought to say a word about Elinor."
She turned to him again.
"You ask me who would marry you. Why, Sir Oswald, in England there are hundreds of girls, well-bred, elegant, graceful, gentle, like my niece, who would ask nothing better from fortune than a husband like yourself."
She saw her words take effect. She had turned his thoughts and ideas in the right direction at last.
"Shall we go and look after our truants?" she asked, suavely.
And they walked together down the path where Pauline had so indignantly gathered the broken lily. As though unconsciously, Lady Hampton began to speak of her niece.
"I have adopted Elinor entirely," she said—"indeed there was no other course for me to pursue. Her mother was my youngest sister; she has been dead many years. Elinor has been living with her father, but he has just secured a government appointment abroad, and I asked him to give his daughter to me."