Aldyth's cheeks were burning. She wished he would not speak of her mother in that contemptuous tone.
"I am glad I happened to meet you," she said, "since otherwise I should not have seen you at all. Shall we go into the Park and sit down for a little while? It is quite warm, and I want to have a talk with you."
He assented with evident pleasure. In a few minutes they were at the Marble Arch, and entering the Park found a quiet seat under some trees.
"Aldyth," said her uncle suddenly, "you will be good enough not to mention to your mother that you have seen me to-day; and do not name it when you are writing to Woodham. I do not wish my coming up to town to be talked about there."
Aldyth promised; but she could not but wonder that her uncle should think it possible to keep people at Woodham from knowing that he had made a journey to town.
Presently she expressed her thankfulness for his recent escape from danger.
"Yes," he said, thoughtfully, "it was a narrow escape,—a narrow escape indeed. And Guy acted like a hero. He saved my life at the risk of his own; there's no denying that. How he hung on to that brute of a horse I can't tell. His wrists feel the strain yet."
"Oh, uncle, I hope you do not drive that animal still," Aldyth said.
"Well, no, I suppose I shall have to give it up; he's not safe in the shafts. Guy can ride him. Guy is a good rider. Sometimes I think that perhaps I have been too hard on him; he is a good fellow, is Guy. I did hope I should have seen you married to him, Aldyth; but I suppose it cannot be."
"No, uncle, it can never be," Aldyth said.