"What, at your expense?" asked Cecil, flushing.
"No, at mamma's, if you like that better," said Aldyth, smiling. "I consider that mamma shares all my possessions."
"It is very good of you," said Cecil, looking relieved, and yet a little uneasy. "You are very generous. I don't believe Gladys would be so ready to let others spend her money."
"Don't say that—it is rather mean; for you cannot possibly tell what Gladys would do under the circumstances. And I cannot see that there is any generosity in giving away what you will never miss. I could not possibly spend on myself the income which is now mine. I don't know what I should have done if this had not happened, for I am not a fine lady. I have an inbred horror of extravagance."
Cecil laughed.
"You are not like Gladys, then. She will help you to spend your money fast enough, if you let her. But I think very differently of you, Aldyth, and I hope some day I may be able to repay you for what you do for me."
"Very well, sir," said Aldyth, laughing. "When I get a broken arm or a sprained ankle, I shall be happy for you to exercise your surgical skill upon it."
Aldyth remained with her mother and sisters for a week at Eastbourne, keeping almost in seclusion. Yet for her it was a busy time, for there were many arrangements to be made, letters to be written, friends to be seen, and every task from which her mother and Gladys shrank devolved upon her.
Mrs. Stanton gradually recovered from the shock of ill-tidings, and after a few days began to move less languidly, and to show some faint interest in the future that awaited her.
"To think that I should live at Wyndham after all," she said to Aldyth. "Your father used to talk of it at one time, when he hoped his uncle would forgive us; but that never came to pass. It is strange that I should go there now, after all these years and all that has happened. But it is rather a dreary old place, is it not?"