“James, your ladyship.”
“And do you really mean to tell me that my nephews are outside?”
“Yes, please your ladyship.”
“Well, then, don’t keep them there a minute longer, James. Run along, Annie,” she said to the little girl, “it is time for you to be in bed.”
Annie had hardly retired, when—a little shyly—the boys entered, uncertain of their reception. But Lady Vinsear started from her seat, and embraced them with the utmost affection.
“My dear Cyril,” she said, kissing him again; “how tall and handsome you have grown; and Frankie, too, you are the image of Julian when he was your age.”
The boys were amazed at the heartiness with which she welcomed them, as though nothing had happened, and after she had given them a capital supper, she said to them, “Now, boys, I see you are rather puzzled at me. Never mind that; don’t think of what has happened. We mean all to be friends now. And now tell me all about Julian.”
They found, however, that Lady Vinsear knew a good deal about his college career from her neighbour Lord De Vayne, who had kept her acquainted with all his successes and honours up to the period when De Vayne left Other Hall. Since then she had not been able to gain much information about him, and had not heard the news either of his fellowship, his approaching marriage, or his acceptance of a college living.
She listened eagerly to the intelligence, and finally asked if he knew of their visit.
“No,” said Cyril, laughing; “neither he nor any of them. Now, Aunt Vinsear, you really must do me a favour. You know Vi is to be married at Orton on the same day as Julian; won’t you come with us to the wedding, and surprise them all? If you were to start by an early train, and take the carriage with you, we should drive up in time for the ceremony, and it would be such a happy joke for all concerned.”