"He is next heir to a baronetcy. Lady Olive Cavendish does not sound badly, does it?"
"He used to come here often enough in the old days," Laura said, looking at the gloomy old mansion; "he was all devotion to poor Nathalie."
Miss Henderson's beautiful short upper-lip curled.
"He seems to have got wonderfully well over it in so brief a time, for a love so devoted."
"It is man's nature, my dear," said Mr. Darcy; "here's the house, will you go through?"
Laura absolutely screamed at the idea.
"Good gracious, Mr. Darcy! I would not go in for all the world. Don't go, Olive—I mean Miss Henderson."
"Oh, call me Olive! I hate Miss Henderson. No, I don't care for going in—the place has given me the horrors already."
As they walked back to the carriage, Laura asked her what she thought of Mr. Darcy's plan of the villa.
"I shall think about it," was the reply. "Meantime, Mr. Darcy, I wish you would look out for a nice house for me, one with a garden attached, and a stable, and in some nice street, with a view of the water."