Biddy gave her a quick, wise look. "Will I tell ye a secret, Miss Dinah dear?" she whispered.
Dinah looked at her. The old woman's face was full of shrewd understanding. "Yes, tell me!" she said somewhat breathlessly.
Biddy's brown hand grasped her arm. "Master Scott went to town this morning," she said. "He'll be back any minute now. Sir Eustace is downstairs. He wants to see ye—to tell ye something—before Master Scott gets back."
"Oh, what—what?" gasped Dinah.
"There, now, there! Don't ye be afraid!" said Biddy, her beady eyes softening. "It's something ye'll like. Master Scott—he's not the gentleman to make ye do anything ye don't want to do. Don't ye trust him, Miss Dinah?"
"Of course—of course," Dinah said, with trembling lips.
"Then ye've nothing to be afraid of," said Biddy wisely. "Faith, it's only the marriage-licence he's been to fetch!"
"Oh—Biddy!" Dinah wheeled from the window, with both her hands over her heart.
Biddy nodded with grave triumph. "It was Sir Eustace made him go. Master Scott—he didn't think it would be dacent, not at first. But, as Sir Eustace said, there's more ways than one of being ondacent, and after all it was the dearest wish of Miss Isabel's heart. 'Don't you be a conventional fool!' he said. And for once I agreed with him," said Biddy naïvely, "though I think he needn't have used bad language over it."
"Oh—Biddy!" Dinah said again, and then very oddly she began to smile, and the tension went out of her attitude. She kissed the wrinkled cheek, and turned. "I think perhaps I will go down and speak to Sir Eustace," she said.