The old Moat House and estate of the Falcon Range was left to Master Guy Falconer, subject to certain conditions affecting in some degree the income of the Squire's only child, and also that of Maude Herbert; while Evelyn, with an ample fortune from other sources, was confided to the guardianship of Mrs. Falconer and Mr. Herbert.
When the document was read in the presence of the sorrow-stricken girl, a glow of pride and pleasure for a moment lighted up her sad face, and she ventured one glance at the startled, astonished Guy, in a triumphant thought of the change which had passed over her dear father's estimate of the "poor lad" of earlier days.
As for Guy Falconer himself, he was utterly confounded and overwhelmed at this proof of confidence and affection, and for some time argued against the possibility of accepting such a disposition of the property. Then he forbade everything like rejoicing, shunned congratulations, and declared that the Moat House should mourn in silence and desolation for at least a year. He would spend that time abroad, and Evelyn decided to accept a home alternately under the roofs of her two guardians, continuing the retired and useful life among the people to which her mother had accustomed her.
The year passed away, but the signs of mourning still hung over the old Moat House, though things within began to resume something of their former aspect.
Mrs. Falconer was once more presiding, but now on her son's behalf; and the fairy sprite, so lately almost an idol there, was seldom to be found in any of her old haunts. She smiled through tears when Guy came home, told him truly how glad she was that, since the owner there might no longer be her own honoured father, he should fill his place, and then fled away to her home at the Vicarage.
Still Guy Falconer would permit no demonstrations among the villagers, and took to his studies industriously. Things were not going happily, and all the family felt it, until brave sisterly love came to the rescue.
"Guy," said Maude one morning, "I want Evelyn to see your picture. May I bring her yet?"
Guy hesitated.
"It is not finished, and I did not intend to show it to anyone at present; but you may do as you please, Maude."
And into the favourite sitting-room of the late mistress of the Moat came the two friends, where the artist stood before his picture. It was an interior, exquisitely representing that very room, its beauty, its comfort, its view of gay parterre and undulating distance.