"There's a lady—Miss Townshead—waiting to see you, miss," she said.
Now Alice Deringham was the reverse of a timid woman, but for a few moments she felt her courage fail. Every instinct in her shrank from that meeting, but the maid had no cause to suspect it when she rose languidly and followed her. The interview was not of long duration, and nobody ever heard all that passed between the two, but when Seaforth, who had been waiting anxiously, handed Miss Townshead into the cars her eyes were misty.
"Was it very hard?" he said.
"No," the girl said slowly; "not after the beginning. I was angry when I went in, and I came away only sorry for her. There is a great deal more that is lovable in Miss Deringham than I ever fancied there could be."
"Yes," said Seaforth sapiently. "But it's much better when there's nothing else, which is the case with somebody I know. I like my gold free from alloy."
It was the next day when Deringham found his daughter alone in the sunny corner of the verandah. He carried a handful of papers, and the girl noticed that while he looked ill and haggard there was relief in his face. It was, however, with a vacant curiosity she waited for him to speak, for she had risen heavy-eyed and listless after a sleepless night. Deringham leaned against the balustrade in front of her, and appeared to find it somewhat difficult to begin.
"I have just spent an hour with Mr. Alton and a lawyer, and have something of importance to tell you," he said.
"I am listening," said the girl languidly, though Deringham fancied there were signs of a sudden intentness in her face.
"We will commence at the beginning. Alton appears to have been doubtful respecting his right to Carnaby, and seems to have felt in the first place that it would not be fitting for him to receive as a favour what was his father's by right. I do not know that many men would have regarded it in that light."
"I think," said the girl with a little quickening of her pulses, "that
Mr. Alton's view was right!"