Mrs. Bland crone out of the room with her, and she too begged Aldyth to come often.
"You have done her good," she said; "she has opened her heart to you, and it has relieved her. But it is wonderful how she bears it. Such courage, such fortitude! She makes me ashamed of myself."
And Aldyth turned away with the thought that Kitty was proving herself a true heroine, although she had passed for a commonplace mortal.
[CHAPTER XXIX.]
A MIND DISEASED.
MRS. STANTON came home looking little better for her month's stay in town. Her face had still a worn and harassed look, and she responded in a fretful tone to Aldyth's loving greeting.
"Yes, I am very tired. The train was late at Wickham; it is so tiresome having to wait there. Oh, what a dead-alive place Woodham looks after London! I really do not know how I can exist here."
Aldyth had brightened her mother's room with fresh draperies and spring flowers, but, pleasant as the room looked, Mrs. Stanton's heart sank within her as she entered it. The place was associated for her with sleepless nights, painfully insistent thoughts, and a heavy weight of dread. She shivered as her glance fell on the wardrobe in which, locked away in her travelling desk, was the will which she dared not destroy, dared not even look upon again, but desired to keep hidden for ever.
"You are cold," said Aldyth, hastening to give the fire a stir. "The wind is very chill, although the sunshine is so brilliant. But spring is advancing; you will be surprised to see how bright the garden looks."
Mrs. Stanton turned to the window, which commanded one side of the garden. On the path below were Gladys and Guy, searching the violet bed for flowers, and laughing and talking merrily the while.