"Oh dear," said Aldyth, flushing hotly. "Do you mean to tell me I have been the cause of Guy losing his inheritance?"
"You are not to blame in the matter," said her aunt. "Hilda Bland might say she was the cause. It was just uncle's wilfulness."
"But it is very hard for Guy," said Aldyth. "It does not seem fair that I should have all and he nothing. Oh, he will be vexed!"
"Guy has five thousand pounds and the farm at Wood Corner," said Miss Lorraine; "but of course that is very different from what he expected."
"Cannot it be altered, aunt?" said Aldyth. "Must I take Wyndham? I am sure if I had had the least idea uncle meant to do such a thing, I would have begged him not to do it."
At that moment there came to her recollection the talk she had had with her uncle as they sat together in Hyde Park. She remembered how he had spoken of Wyndham; how anxious he appeared that the old place should remain as it was, and the promise she had given to do all in her power to keep it unchanged. But he had spoken of another mistress of Wyndham; evidently his thoughts had turned to Hilda Bland.
Doubtless he was then in a state of indecision with respect to the disposition or his property. Had he finally decided to let his last will stand, or had death, coming so unexpectedly, settled the question for him? It was impossible to know.
"You cannot set aside your uncle's will," said Miss Lorraine. "He meant you to be the mistress of Wyndham. He has thought of everything, and made careful provision for your future. If you marry, your husband is to take the name of Lorraine."
Aldyth's colour deepened. "I shall never marry," she said with decision.
"It is a great pity—" said Miss Lorraine, musingly, "it is a great pity you and Guy were not suited to each other."