And to think that Mr. Glynne's sister was now at Woodham! Aldyth would have given much to make her acquaintance, and to join in the long walks which she would be taking with the Blands. But she sagely reflected that we cannot have everything at once in this life. She had—what for years had been her heart's chief desire—the society of her mother and sisters, and she must be content to resign her old life at Woodham, which, as she now saw plainly, had been full of quiet happiness.
She was finding a niche in her new home, and learning daily that even in London there were many who needed her. Her stepfather, who whilst the days of his wife and Gladys were wholly occupied with gaiety, seemed to grow more and more weary and depressed, often sought her help in little matters for which his wife had no leisure and seemed glad of her company. Cecil came to her with tales of his hospital experiences, and found to his surprise that Aldyth knew more about surgery than most girls, and could listen with intelligent interest to the "horrors" at the very mention of which his mother and Gladys stopped their ears.
And Nelly looked forward with delight to the pleasant "outings" which Aldyth contrived that they should have together almost every Saturday afternoon. Even Gladys invariably sought Aldyth whenever she needed assistance of any kind. But to her mother, despite tender words and caresses, Aldyth could never feel that she was very near and dear. The long years of separation seemed to have left between them a void that could not easily be bridged over.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
HILDA IS HAPPY.
THREE days had passed since Aldyth received Hilda's letter. Her aunt had sent her a full account of what had happened, and a few curt, but not unkind, words from her uncle had assured her that there was no need for her to feel any anxiety on his account.
It was about five o'clock on a bright afternoon, and Aldyth, having had occasion to go to a shop there, was walking in Oxford Street. She was near Regent Circus when, to her great astonishment, she perceived her grand-uncle a few yards in front of her, stepping cautiously from an omnibus. He did not perceive her, and she looked at him for a moment or two, hardly able to believe her eyes. Her uncle, who professed to dislike London so much, and had not been known to visit it for years!
Indeed, it was a great event for him at any time to go beyond twenty miles of his home. But there he was, in his old velveteen coat, his white hat, his drab gaiters, just as Aldyth was accustomed to see him at Woodham, but looking strangely out of place on the London pavement. She hurriedly made her way to his side.
"Uncle! I little expected to see you in Oxford Street."
He turned, surprised and pleased, yet his manner betrayed some discomposure.