“I should like to speak my mind to Lady Diana,” remarked Randolph, as he tore the paper into small fragments and tossed them over the cliff. “I always distrusted her wisdom, but I did not look for deliberate malice like that. Why did you not show me that letter when it came, Monica, and let me see what I had to say to it?”
She looked up with a smile.
“Because I was so foolish and distrustful in those days. I did long to once, but then came the thought—Suppose it should be true?”
And then they both smiled. There was a charm and sweetness in thus discussing the past, with the light of the happy present shining upon it.
“But she meant to be your friend, Randolph. We must not forget that. I suppose she thought that you would tell me of your love, but that she ought to inform me of your generosity. Poor Aunt Diana! we should get on better now. In those days, Randolph, I think I was very difficile—very wilful and unapproachable. I used to think it would kill me ever to leave Trevlyn. I think now that it would have been the ruin of me to stay. It is not good to grow up in one narrow groove, and to gain no knowledge of anything beyond.”
“That is quite true, Monica. Does that mean that you will be willing to leave Trevlyn, by and-bye?”
“I shall be willing to do anything that you wish, Randolph. You know I would go anywhere with you. Do you want to take me away again?”
“Presently I think I do. I should like to take you to Scotland in August, to stay a month or two at my little shooting-box there. You would like the free, roving life you could lead there, amongst that world of heather. And then there are things to be done at Trevlyn. Monica, will you be able to reconcile yourself to changes here?”
“Changes?”
“Yes. I should like to see Trevlyn restored to what it must have been a century ago. The glory has departed of late years, but you have only to look round to see what the place must have been once. I want to restore that faded glory—not to introduce glaring changes, but to make it something like what it must have been when our ancestors lived there long years ago. Would you like that, Monica? It would not go against you, would it, to see Trevlyn look so? I want it to be worthy of the mistress who will preside there. It is a wish that has haunted me ever since I entered its precincts and met you there.”