CHAPTER XXVI.
THE GARDEN AT MORTLAKE.
Alice leaned back in her chair, smiling, and very much pleased.
“So my father seems disposed to relent ever so little—and ever so little, you know, is better than nothing,” said Richard Arden.
“I'm so glad, Dick, that he wishes you to take your dinner with us to-morrow; it is a very good sign. It would be so delightful if you could be at home with us, as you used to be.”
“You are a good little soul, Alice—a dear little thing! This is very pretty,” he said, looking at her drawing. “What is it?”
“The ruined castle near the northern end of the lake at Golden Friars. Mr. Longcluse says it is pretty good. Is he to dine here, do you know?”
“No—I don't know—I hope not,” said Richard shortly.
“Hope not! why?” said she. “I thought you liked him extremely.”
“I thought he was very well for a sort of outdoor acquaintance for men; but I don't even know that, now. There's no use in speaking to Lady May, but I warn you—you had better drop him. There is very little known about him, but there is a great deal that is not pleasant said.”