Rachel too raised herself on tiptoe, and bending forward touched the old man’s lips lightly with her own.
“Rupert’s child,” he murmured; “ay, ay, just like Rupert.”
Shortly afterward he died.
[CHAPTER III.—PREPARING FOR THE HEIR]
“I wonder, Rachel,” said Kitty, “I wonder when the heir will be found.”
Rachel had curled herself up in a luxurious arm-chair, was devouring a new story-book, and was in consequence displeased with Kitty for her question.
“Let me read, Kitty. In half an hour I have to go to my drill, and then practicing, and then learning those tiresome lessons. I don’t care if an heir is never found; do let me read!”
“There’s another one coming to-morrow,” continued Kitty in a by no means abashed voice; “his name is Philip and his mother is coming with him. I heard Aunt Grizel telling Mrs. Eyre all about it, and, Rachel—oh, Rachel, do listen! they are to sleep in the bedroom directly under Aunt Katharine’s and Aunt Grizel’s room in the tower.”
This last piece of information was sufficiently interesting to Rachel to make her fling down her book with an impetuous gesture.
“What a tiresome Kitty you are. I never can read when you come into the room. I was in a most exciting part, but never mind. My half-hour of quiet will be gone in no time. I had better keep the book until I can steal away into the forest and read it in peace.”