Miss Perfect had reached this point in her oration when old Winnie, who had been looking out of the window with unusual scrutiny, on a sudden exclaimed—
“I’m blest if here baint Master William a comin’!”
Aunt Dinah uttered a little exclamation, with her shut hand pressing on her breast, as she looked over her old servant’s shoulder.
I don’t know how it was, but as William Maubray entered the old iron gate, he heard the swift tread of a light foot, and Aunt Dinah, hurrying from the red brick porch, ran towards him with a little cry, and “My darling!” and threw her thin arms round his neck, and they both stood still.
“Oh! Willie, you’ve come back.”
William did not answer, he was looking down in her face, pale, with his hands very gently on her shoulders.
“Come in, darling,” she said at last.
“Am I to come in?” said William, wistfully and softly.
And she looked at him, pleadingly with tears in her eyes, and said—
“Poor old Aunt Dinah.”