"Do you ever hunt?" asked Gladys, eagerly.
"No," said Aldyth; "Guy has often tried to persuade aunt to let me, but she does not like the idea of a lady's hunting. Kitty Bland has ridden after the hounds once or twice, but her mother is very nervous about it."
"I would not mind what your aunt thinks," said Gladys, coolly; "I would go if I were you, Aldyth."
"My dear Gladys," said Mrs. Stanton, reprovingly, "I am glad that Aldyth has a better notion than you of what is becoming conduct in a young lady towards her seniors."
Gladys shrugged her shoulders and made a grimace.
"Does not your cousin Guy write to you, Aldyth?" asked Mrs. Stanton, in so meaning a tone that it brought a quick flush to the girl's cheek.
"Oh dear no," she said, hurriedly, "that is the last thing Guy would think of doing. He will never write to any one unless he is obliged."
"Indeed," said Mrs. Stanton, and let the subject drop. She watched her daughter intently for a few seconds. She had already questioned Miss Lorraine pretty closely as to the relations subsisting between Aldyth and her cousin, and had drawn her own conclusions from that lady's reluctant replies.
Some time later, as Aldyth sat writing a letter in the breakfast room, her mother entered, her wool work in her hand, and settled herself in an easy-chair by the fire, evidently intending to remain there.
"How cold it is!" she said, holding out her hands towards the blaze. "I have sent Gladys to take a walk in the park with her father. He does not like walking alone, and it is better he should have company, for I am still anxious about him. To tell you the truth, Aldyth, he had a slight stroke of paralysis before he left Australia, and that, you know, is very alarming."