But Aldyth was not ambitious of social distinction, and the tennis-parties were spoiled for her by the thought of Kitty Bland, a champion player, lying helpless on her couch of pain. Aldyth spent many an hour with her friend, and Gladys too went frequently to see her. After that first meeting, Aldyth rarely saw Kitty give way to tears. Her cheerfulness was indeed a continual astonishment to Gladys. Gay, idle, as Gladys often appeared, Aldyth could perceive that she was not quite so thoughtless as she had been before Kitty's accident. The time spent with Kitty moved her to reflection. She gradually gained some insight into the secret of Kitty's brave endurance, with the result that she became dissatisfied with herself, and began to long for a higher life than the mere pursuit of pleasure which had hitherto contented her. Kitty's days of enforced idleness were not so fruitless as she imagined; she was exerting a lasting influence for good on other lives.
Spring gave place to summer, but Mrs. Stanton's spirits did not improve. She would exert herself and appear animated when visitors were present, but on their departure she sank back into a weary state of depression.
One evening Aldyth came back from a visit to Miss Lorraine, and found her mother alone in the drawing room. She had a book in her hand, but she was not reading, when Aldyth's sudden entrance caused her to start nervously. Aldyth sat down and began to draw off her gloves. She would enliven her mother with a piece of news she had learned. Clara Dawtrey was engaged to be married.
Miss Lorraine had told the news in her usual racy style, and Aldyth's eyes sparkled with fun as she recalled her aunt's words. She had not the least idea that Clara's engagement could make any difference to her.
"What is amusing you so, Aldyth?" her mother inquire in rather a fretful tone.
"I have heard some news," said Aldyth, nodding her head. "Who is engaged to be married, do you think?"
"Do not ask me to guess," said Mrs. Stanton, impatiently; "I hate guessing things."
"Well, then, it is Clara Dawtrey. As aunt says, 'her efforts are at last crowned with success.'"
"And who is the gentleman?"
"Oh, no one we know. A Mr. Gould, of London."