“You must keep that to yourself a little while, Aunt Catherine: it will be such a surprise to the girls, you know. Did I tell you about the new conservatory Ibbetson has built? It leads out of the drawing-room, and improves the room wonderfully, they say.”
“My dear Harry! what an expense! That is just what Mr. Mayne was always wanting us to do; and Nan was so fond of flowers. It was just what the room needed to make it perfect.” And Mrs. Challoner folded her hands, with a sigh at the remembrance of the house she had loved so dearly.
“They say Gilsbank is for sale,” remarked her nephew, rather suddenly, after this.
“What! Gilsbank, where old Admiral Hawkins lived? Nan saw the announcement of his death the other day, and she said then the place would soon be put up for sale. Poor old man! He was a martyr to gout.”
“I had a look at it the other day,” he replied, coolly. “Why, it is not a hundred yards from your old cottage. There is a tidy bit of land, and the house is not so bad, only it wants doing up; but the furniture—that is for sale too—is very old-fashioned and shabby.”
“Are you thinking of it for yourself?” asked his aunt, in surprise. “Why, Gilsbank is a large place; it would never do for a single man. You would find the rooms Phillis proposed far handier.”
“Why, Aunt Catherine!” in a tone of strong remonstrance. “You don’t mean to condemn me to a life of single blessedness because of my size?”
“Oh, Harry, of course not! My dear boy, what an idea!”
“And some one may be found in time who could put up even with red hair.” 306
“Oh, yes; that need not be an obstacle.” But she looked at him with vague alarm. Of whom could he be thinking?