“I was told they were away,” he said abruptly.
“So they are. She came down on business. She—she—”
“Don’t talk about her,” said Lucian, sternly. “There’s the Rector, and Miss Riddell with him.”
He came up to them, shook hands cordially, presented his little offerings of Indian curios, and after a very short visit, took his leave, and went away by himself.
“Unlucky!” exclaimed Miss Riddell. “I wish it had not occurred.”
“But, Aunt Meg, are they coming down here?” said Sylvester, hurriedly.
“No, they are to be in London for the season, Amethyst is to be presented. I suppose their affairs are looking up. They have been abroad, you know, for some time, and visiting-about; but Amethyst was in town last year for a very short time, with their cousin, Lady Molyneux, at the end of the season. You heard that? She was only there long enough to show that she would make a sensation. R, the new artist, asked to paint her, the picture is to be in the Academy this year. She will have every chance now. She looks well, and has not lost her sweet manner, but her girlishness has all gone, and she is more the grand lady than her mother.”
“I—I hardly remember what a beauty she was,” said Sylvester, rather nervously. “And that fellow, Fowler, he married the heiress, didn’t he?”
“Yes. They live in London. Haven’t you ever met them at Loseby? The marriage turned out very well. There is something very engaging about Amethyst, and she spoke nicely of her sister Una, who is very delicate, she tells me. But, dear me, it was a bad business for Lucian. I don’t know when he will settle down. His mother longs for him to marry and live at Toppings.”
“He had much better see the world first,” said Sylvester.