"That is rather hard lines for me, seeing that I don't believe Bothwell has any idea of getting married to any one except you."
Hilda blushed, and then shook her head despondingly.
"Who can tell what he means to do?" she said. "General Harborough died less than a year ago. Lady Valeria could scarcely marry within the year."
"But if Bothwell meant to marry Lady Valeria, he would scarcely be grinding lads at Trevena," answered Heathcote. "He has behaved so well that I feel it my duty to plead for him."
Hilda put her arms round her brother's neck and kissed him, by way of answer.
"Let me finish my studies at the Conservatoire; and then, at the beginning of next winter, I will go back to The Spaniards, if you still want me there. But perhaps you will have found another mistress for the old house before that time."
"I know what you mean, Hilda," he answered gravely. "No, there is no hope of that."
"Not yet, perhaps. It is too soon. Dora is too loyal and true to forget easily. But the day will come when her heart will turn to her first love. You have never ceased to care for her, have you, Edward?"
"No, dear; such a love as mine means once, and once only. My wife was all goodness, and I was grateful to her, and fond of her—but that affection was not like the old love, and it never extinguished the old love."
"Be sure your reward will come in due time."