"Well!"
"I have told him," Aldyth replied. "It was hard, but—I felt—not undeserved. He was, of course, very indignant."
"Ah, what did he say? Will he turn us out at once?"
"I think not; his feelings were softened when I came away. Gladys was with him, and—I think—I suppose, mamma, you would not object to him as a suitor for Gladys now?" Almost involuntarily Aldyth's voice took an inflection of scorn as she asked the question; but Mrs. Stanton did not appear conscious of it, as she replied calmly—
"Certainly not: it would be the best thing possible under the circumstances."
Guy succeeded in overcoming Gladys's scruples, for in a few days the fact of their betrothal was the talk of Woodham. The more momentous news concerning the inheritance of Wyndham was for a time known only to Mr. Ralph Greenwood and his brother, the banker; but the legal processes which had to be taken rendered it impossible to keep the matter a secret long.
Great was the excitement it created amongst Aldyth's friends. The Blands at first refused to believe that it was more than an idle rumour; but they soon heard it confirmed by Aldyth herself.
"Yes, it is true," she said one afternoon, as she joined the group on the lawn in Mrs. Bland's garden, "it is true; I am no longer the mistress of Wyndham."
It was late in September, but the afternoon was warm and bright as that on which our story began. The garden was still gay with flowers; there were even a few late roses to be seen here and there. Kitty's conch had been wheeled on to the lawn, and she lay in the shade of an old apple-tree. Gwendolen, now finally released from her boarding-school, was lounging in the hammock; Hilda sat by Kitty, with a book on her lap, from which she had been reading aloud; Mrs. Bland, knitting in hand, was also seated near.
All faces turned with keen interest to Aldyth as she appeared. Hilda sprang to meet her. No question was asked; Aldyth's words were uttered in response to their eager glances.