Stella rose at sight of him, but remained with her arm round Lady Cranstoun.
“The marriage will take place in the second week of May,” Sir Philip proceeded, fixing a threatening glance upon his daughter.
“I am so glad; oh, I am so glad, my dear, dear child!”
Stella did not speak. She dared not at the moment undeceive her or banish from her face that unwonted look of happiness and hope.
Lady Cranstoun kissed her affectionately, and then as though nerving herself for a great effort, and timidly retaining the girl’s hands in hers, she addressed her husband.
“I have not told you before, Philip,” she began, “in fact, I have not had an opportunity, that while you were away, feeling that I might die any minute, I sent to town for my father’s lawyer.”
“Without consulting me?”
“Yes. You see, there is that legacy of my Uncle Charles, which I came into last year——”
“Well?”
“It isn’t very much—only five thousand pounds, in fact—but I have left it by will to Stella when she attains the age of twenty-one. You see, the estates being entailed, I did not like the idea of my little girl being without pocket-money. And it will be a nice little sum for herself when she marries Lord Carthew.”