"But I won't go, I won't go," said Ida in her soft voice. "Don't look so angry, Richard." It was the first time she had uttered his Christian name, and Towton flushed with pleasure. "I am quite well."
"You look extremely ill," he replied bluntly. Ida sat down with a sigh. "It's not the fault of Frances. She has been like a sister to me ever since the death of my dear father."
"Ida, come and stay at The Grange. Lady Corsoon is coming down this evening. I am sure you will be happier there."
"I can't leave Frances."
"Nonsense!" said Miss Hest with something of her old vigour; "you will be much better with your own people, Ida. If you stay here they will think that I am after your money."
"Oh, Frances, when you know----"
"It's all nonsense, dear. The Colonel here declares that Diabella is, or rather was, Constantine Maunders, masquerading as a fortune-teller."
"Then what he said is----"
"Are you talking of a secret of your father's, Ida?" asked Vernon quickly.
"Was Mr. Dimsdale my father?" she demanded facing round anxiously. "Diabella--that is, Constantine, if what you say is true--told me that I was not his daughter. If so, I have no right to the property, and--and----" She put her hand to her forehead, "Oh, my poor head!"