"Yes," answered Maud softly.
"What was it?" asked the baronet, turning with a gratified smile towards the widow.
"I told dear Maud long ago that she might have full confidence in Mr. Grey," answered Mrs. Grant, with lively self-satisfaction.
"And you told her what was perfectly true. I must go now. I shall not see you again, Mrs. Grant, until I come back from Egypt. I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to know how good, how loyal Maud's two friends are—yourself and Mr. Grey."
He had shaken both Maud's hands, and kissed her lips for the first time, and shaken hands with Mrs. Grant, and was gone.
Her cousin William was gone, and she should not see him again for months. What a pity he had to go! When he was by her side, or in Daneford, she felt quite safe; nothing could harm her while he was near. When her father died she had felt alone and cold in the world. She had been susceptible to attack on all sides. She had no confidence in herself; and although Mr. Grey had done everything man could do for her, she owned no claim upon him.
But this cousin, this man of her own family, who, finding her timid and unguarded, sought the privilege of shielding her from the world and the bleak unknown lying beyond Island Castle—was a new experience, a delightful improvement on the present.
But no sooner had she learned to lean upon his reassuring strength than he must hurry away. What a pity!
Her cousin William would come back, no doubt; but Egypt was far off, very far off, and the power of his protection was reduced greatly by distance.
Why should she think she would need protection of any kind? Surely Mrs. Grant and Mr. Grey were protection enough in a quiet well-ordered place like Daneford and its neighbourhood?