She had heard the news just before supper, but she waited until that meal was finished lest her communication might spoil his appetite.
It was their pleasant custom to sit and chat for a while every evening while Mr. Wycherly drank his single glass of port, and cracked some nuts, which he generally bestowed next morning upon the little boys.
He held up his glass of wine to the light, and even in the midst of her uneasiness Miss Esperance noted with pleasure how steady was the long, slender hand that held the glass.
"I have heard," Miss Esperance began with a deep sigh, "some most distressing news to-day about certain good friends of yours."
"Is Mrs. Gloag worse?" Mr. Wycherly asked anxiously, for the minister's wife was very delicate, and was often quite seriously ill.
"No, no, nobody is ill; but I fear that our good friend, Lady Alicia, is in very great trouble. Margaret——"
"Has married against her mother's wish?" Mr. Wycherly interrupted quickly.
"That's just what she has done—but how did you guess?"
"And she has married," Mr. Wycherly continued, "a nephew of mine. If I mistake not, Margaret was twenty-one only the other day."
"It seems," Miss Esperance went on, much astonished at the calmness with which Mr. Wycherly received these grievous tidings, "that this young man proposed to Margaret some time ago; but that Lady Alicia wouldn't hear of any engagement. He asked for Margaret again this summer, and was again refused: though Margaret told her mother that she intended to marry him and considered herself engaged to him in spite of everything. And, as you say, directly she came of age she has done it."