Cecil’s eyelashes were bent on her flushed cheeks. She did not raise them.
“If you liked—if you liked, Cecil, we might ask Janet and Bessy to retain their home here,” resumed Lord Averil, in thoughtful consideration. “Ashlydyat is large enough for all.”
“Their home is decided upon,” said Cecil, shaking her head. “Bessy has promised to make hers at Lady Godolphin’s Folly. Lady Godolphin exacted her promise to that effect, before she decided to return to it. I was to have gone to it also. Janet goes to Scotland. I am quite sure that this place has become too painful for Janet to remain in. She has an annuity, as perhaps you know; it was money left her by mamma’s sister; so that she is independent, and can live where she pleases; but I am sure she will go to Scotland, as soon as—as soon as——”
“I understand you, Cecil. As soon as Thomas shall have passed away.”
The tears were glistening in her eyes. “Do you not see a great change in him?”
“A very great one. Cecil, I should like him to give you to me. Will you waive ceremony, and be mine at once?”
“I will see,” murmured Cecil. “When a little of this bustle, this disgrace shall have passed away. Let it die out first.”
A grave expression arose to Lord Averil’s face. “It must not be very long first, Cecil: if you would be mine while your brother is in life.”
“I will, I will; it shall be as you wish,” she answered, her tears falling. And before Lord Averil could make any rejoinder, she had hastily left him, and was standing against the window, stealthily drying her eyes: for the door had opened to admit Thomas Godolphin.