"Now you have crossed his wish, I dare say your uncle will not leave you a penny," continued Mrs. Stanton. "You might, for the sake of us all, have played your cards better than that. I hope you will not infect Gladys with your stupidly romantic notions."
Here the flow of Mrs. Stanton's eloquence ceased abruptly, for Aldyth turned without a word and quitted the room.
"You need not have dragged my name into the discussion, mamma," said Gladys, with scorn in her tones. "You might know that I belong to another order of being, and could never act like Aldyth."
"I hope not, indeed," said Mrs. Stanton, devoutly. "I trust you have more wisdom."
"I don't know about that," said Gladys; "though the Bible does say that 'the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light.' You and I belong this world, mamma. I rather fancy Aldyth must be one of the 'children of light.'"
"What do you mean by speaking in that absurd way? It is not like you, Gladys."
Aldyth had hurried from her mother's presence that she might not be over-mastered by an impulse to relieve her irritated feeling by quick, passionate words. She had a great dread—born of the sacred idea of motherhood she had ever cherished—of being driven to utter bitter, unbecoming words to her mother. It was no uncommon thing for Gladys to address her mother disrespectfully. Angry words sometimes passed between them, though they were good friends as a rule. But if Aldyth ever had a scene with her mother, she knew that the thought of it would leave an indelible stain upon her consciousness, and turn to bitterest irony the hopes of past years.
Mrs. Stanton did not again refer to Guy's engagement; but she treated Aldyth with marked coldness during the next few days. But, as if to atone for her mother's unkindness, Gladys' manner towards her sister was more affectionate than usual. It was she who insisted that Aldyth should accompany them to the Horticultural Gardens on Saturday afternoon. Aldyth consented with some reluctance, for she would have preferred to spend the time with Nelly, as usual. But she could hardly regret that she had come when they reached the gardens, which were looking their loveliest in the first fresh beauty of the spring.
Mr. and Mrs. Stanton seated themselves under the trees to listen to the band, but the girls preferred to move about, admiring the flowers and observing the well-dressed crowd. Some of the ladies were so fair and so charmingly dressed that they seemed to rival the flowers in beauty. Aldyth did not wonder that many eyes were directed towards her sister; she saw no one prettier than Gladys in her gown of palest blue and large white hat. But attractive as was the appearance of Gladys, Aldyth did not suffer total eclipse as she walked by her side. Several persons inquired the name of the tall girl who was Miss Stanton's companion, and decided that though she might not be called beautiful, there was something very interesting about her.
Aldyth went so little into society that she did not expect to meet any one she knew. Gladys stopped now and then to chat with acquaintances, and was careful to introduce her sister; but Aldyth felt herself amidst strangers, till suddenly, as she stood on the outskirt of a little group, a gentleman paused before her, bowing, and saying, in tones of pleasurable surprise—