"Aunt has told you all the news, I suppose," she said at last. "You know what has happened to me—that my mother has gone from me—that our home is broken up?"
"I know," he said, looking earnestly at her; "you feel these changes very much?"
"I feel—some things," Aldyth replied, a strange tremor in her voice. "I don't mind losing Wyndham, but I do feel losing my mother. It is hard to think that she no longer wants me—that no one wants me now."
The words had scarcely passed her lips ere she would have recalled them. They sounded so weak, so selfish.
John Glynne did not deem them so. They seemed to make that possible which was his heart's most cherished desire. He rose; he moved to the window and stood there in silence a few moments. Then he came back and stood before Aldyth. She looked up and met his glance, which held hers spellbound.
"Aldyth, I want you," he said.
And she gave herself to him without a fear.
THE END.
RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BUNGAY.