Aldyth shook her head.
"That would never do," she said. "It would break John's heart to be superseded."
Dripping trees, dripping eaves, a pool under the front windows, and a cloud of vapour rising from the pond, made Wyndham Hall appear anything but a desirable residence as the carriage drove up to the door. Aldyth was grieved that her mother should first see her future home in such an unfavourable aspect.
Mrs. Stanton, in her sable attire, had the air of a queen in exile as she mounted the steps, whilst a servant held an umbrella over her. But Miss Lorraine's cheery face, as she came forward to welcome them, seemed to defy the weather.
"What an evening!" she said. "You will think we have altogether too much water here. It is unfortunate. But we must make the best of it."
"The house is surely damp," said Mrs. Stanton, with a dreary anticipation of rheumatism.
"Not in the least," said Miss Lorraine, briskly; "the walls are too thick for that. There never was a warmer, drier house. They do not build such houses nowadays."
Certainly the dining room, where a bright fire was burning and a meal daintily set out, looked more cheerful.
But Mrs. Stanton's spirits did not begin to revive till Aldyth conducted her to her own room. This was a pleasant apartment with windows looking southwards and commanding a pretty view of the surrounding country. A new carpet had been put down; light fresh chintz draped windows and bed; there were flowers on the dressing-table, and glancing round, Mrs. Stanton could see that her tastes and comforts had been carefully studied. She appreciated comforts, and she gave a sigh of relief, not of despair, as she sank into an easy-chair by the wood fire.
"This is cosy," she said. "Yes, dear Aldyth, I cannot but be comfortable here, and if you will excuse me, I will not go down again to-night. Miss Lorraine is very kind, but I do not feel equal to her talk just now."