CHAPTER XXXIV.
MAURICE REBELS.
On the morning of the day when the guests were to depart Mrs. Aylmer, having spent a long and almost restless night, sent for Trevor to her room. He entered unwillingly. He had begun to dislike his tête-à-tête with Mrs. Aylmer very much.
"Now, my dear boy, just sit down and let us have a cosy chat," said the old lady.
Trevor stood near the open window.
"The day is so mild," he said, "that it is almost summer. Who would suppose that we were close to December?"
"I have not sent for you, Maurice, to talk of the weather. I have something much more important to say."
"And what is that?" he asked.