"Ineffably happy, sweet one, in having won you," he answered tenderly, kissing the fair broad brow.
"You must have been wonderfully clever," said Dora enthusiastically, "beginning without any capital, and within twenty years making a great fortune and a great name in the world of finance."
"I was fortunate in my enterprises when I was a young man, and I lived at a time when fortunes were made—and lost—rapidly. I may have had a longer head than some of my compeers; at any rate, I was cooler-headed than the majority of them, and I kept out of rotten schemes."
"Or got out of them before they collapsed," Mr. Wyllard might have said, had he displayed an exhaustive candour.
But in talking of business matters to a woman a man always leaves a margin.
So after a good deal more discursive talk between husband and wife it was agreed that Mr. Distin's visit was not to be regarded as an affliction. A telegram arrived while Mr. and Mrs. Wyllard were talking, announcing the lawyer's arrival by the same train which had carried the nameless waif to her grave in the valley, the train which was due at Bodmin Road at a quarter before eight. The dog-cart was to meet the guest, and dinner was to be deferred till nine o'clock for his accommodation.
"You can send a line to Heathcote and ask him to dine with us to-night," said Wyllard. "I know he is interested in this business, and would like to meet Distin."
"And Hilda—you won't mind having Hilda?"
"Not in the least. Hilda is an ornament to any gentleman's dining-table. But how fond you have become of Hilda lately!"
"I was always fond of her. Do you know there is something that puzzles me very much?"