"Not at all! She never gave money recklessly—and the do-nothings kept clear of her. But she was the people's friend—and they knew it. They're very excited about your coming!"
"I daresay I shall change some things," said Delia decidedly. "I don't approve of all Mr. Frost has been doing."
"Well, you'll have your guardian to help you," said Mrs. France quietly.
Delia flushed, straightened her shoulders, and said nothing.
This time Mrs. France was fairly taken by surprise. She knew nothing more of Sir Robert Blanchflower's will than that he had made Mr. Mark Winnington his daughter's guardian, till she reached the age of twenty-five. But that any young woman—any motherless and fatherless girl—should not think herself the most lucky of mortals to have obtained Mark Winnington as guide and defender, with first claim on his time, his brains, his kindness, seemed incredible to Mark's old friend and neighbour, accustomed to the daily signs of his immense and deserved popularity. Then it flashed upon her—"Has she ever seen him?"
The doubt led to an immediate communication of the news that Winnington had arrived from town that morning. Dr. France had seen him in the village.
"You know him, of course, already?"
"Not at all," said Delia, indifferently. "He and I are perfect strangers." Mrs. France laughed.
"I rather envy you the pleasure of making friends with him! We are all devoted to him down here."
Delia lifted her eyebrows.