“I can’t comprehend your tenderness for that man, Drusilla! but, there! I will not wound it if I can help it. I am glad he has sold Cedarwood, however. It settles the question of your future residence. You must stay with us now.”
As Anna spoke, General Lyon entered the room, and came with his pleasant smile and sat down beside his protégée.
She turned to him, and, laying her hand in his, said:
“My fate is decided for me, dear sir. I have no home but this, and no protector but you.”
“My darling, I am very glad.”
Yet, in saying this, the General looked from his adopted niece to his granddaughter, as if for an explanation.
Seeing Drusilla hesitate, Anna answered for her.
“Yes, sir, that vill—I mean Mr. Alexander Lyon—has sold Cedarwood.”
The General now looked from his granddaughter back to his niece as if demanding confirmation of the news.
“Yes,” admitted Drusilla, casting down her eyes—in regret for him, not in sorrow for herself; “he has sold Cedarwood, but then, you know, dear sir, that I had left the house.”