"You must not let it be a whim, Gladys."
"I'll try my best," said Gladys; "but, Aldyth, I hope you will still be able to do a good deal for the Home yourself. I hope you will not go far off. Have you any idea where you and mamma will live?"
"Not the least," said Aldyth.
She had tried more than once to approach the subject with her mother, but Mrs. Stanton had always evaded it.
"Well, perhaps it is best to leave it for the present," Gladys said. "You must come and see me very often. I shall want your help if I am to become a better woman."
"It is not my help you want, Gladys. The secret of a true life is to be found here, and God will give His help to all who ask it."
As she spoke, Aldyth laid her hand on the small neatly-bound copy of the New Testament that lay on her table. Gladys's face grew strangely grave. There was an earnest look in her blue eyes as she turned them on Aldyth. For a few minutes neither spoke. Then Gladys rose to say good-night. No other word was spoken, but the heart of each was thrilled with a new happiness as they clasped each other warmly ere they parted.
A few days later, Aldyth, her mother, and sister were in London. Visits to shops, dressmakers, and milliners filled up most of their time. Mrs. Stanton had agreed with Aldyth as to the necessity of making the preparations for Gladys's wedding as simple as possible, but it was evident that her idea of simplicity differed widely from that of Aldyth. She was driven to wonder uneasily how the bills were to be met which her mother ran up without the least hesitation. She could not but be aware that it would be a very difficult matter for her mother to keep her expenditure within the limits of the small income that was all Aldyth could now command—the interest of the six thousand pounds her uncle had bequeathed to her in his later will.
Aldyth was met by many practical difficulties as she tried to plan out their future. What was to be done with Nelly? She would leave school at Christmas, but she was too young and in no way suited to take the post of a governess. There seemed no possibility now of her having the art training on which her heart was set. Guy had promised to extend a helping hand to Cecil till he could stand alone, but it was not to be expected that he would do anything for Nelly. The main burden of anxiety seemed to rest on Aldyth. Mrs. Stanton complained and lamented, but never really pondered the problem of the future. And whilst Aldyth worried herself over ways and means, her mother calmly decided that the state of her health rendered it imperative that they should spend a few weeks at Brighton before they returned to Wyndham.
It was whilst at Brighton that Aldyth, taking up the "Times" one morning, saw an announcement which thrilled her heart with sympathetic pain. Mrs. Glynne was dead. Aldyth had not known her, but her aunt's account of her old friend and her simple, happy home at Highgate, as well as John Glynne's words respecting his mother, had conveyed to her mind a very vivid impression. It was almost like losing a personal friend. It grieved her to think of the sorrow of the bereaved. What a blow it would be to John Glynne! Was the mail carrying him the melancholy news, or had he heard of his mother's critical state in time to hasten to her side and receive her last farewell? His quiet, undemonstrative demeanour hid a heart of rare warmth and tenderness. Aldyth knew him well enough to know something of the strength of his love for his mother, and how deeply he would feel parting with her. She longed for fuller information than was afforded by the bare newspaper paragraph, but the longing remained unsatisfied, for, strange to say, Miss Lorraine in her letters made no allusion to her friend's death.