Leonora stood still, looking at her relative with a pale, startled face.
"Why, that was Captain Lancaster," she said, faintly after a minute.
"Of course," answered Mrs. West. "He's an officer in the army, but he is Lord Lancaster, of Lancaster Park, too. Dear me, dear me, didn't you really know that much, Leonora?"
"N-no; I didn't. I thought he was nothing but a soldier. He—he told me that he was as poor as—as a church-mouse!" faltered Leonora, as red as a rose, and with a lump in her throat. She was just on the point of breaking down and crying with vexation. How had he dared chaff her so?
"Well, so he is poor—not as poor as a church-mouse, of course, for he has Lancaster Park and five thousand acres of woodland; but then he has no money—it was all squandered by the dead-and-gone lords of Lancaster. So Captain Clive Lancaster never left the army when he came into the title. He could not support it properly, and so my lady lives on here, and some day, if he marries to please her, she will give him all her money," said Mrs. West, volubly.
Leonora went over to the window, and stood looking out at the fair, peaceful English landscape in silence. Her readiness of speech seemed to have deserted her. The pretty face was pale with surprise.
"You must be tired, dear. Do lie down and rest yourself," said Mrs. West. "I must leave you now for a little while. Oh, I had almost forgotten—your luggage, Leonora—did you bring any?"
"Yes, there were several trunks," Leonora answered, without turning her head.
"I will have them brought in," said Mrs. West. Then she bustled away and left the girl alone.
She was not tired, probably, for she did not lie down. She only pulled a chair to the window and sat down. Then she clasped her small hands together on the window-sill, rested her round, dimpled chin upon them, and gazed at the sky with a thoughtful, far-off look in her eyes.