When he was dead, and she was no longer young, she took a step that surprised her friends considerably, for she married a wealthy widower with three middle-aged daughters, who had come to live lately at a grand old place called Dingle Hall.
"They are only nouveaux richesses, my dear," as an ill-natured widow remarked, "and he has made all his money in trade; but Dora Cunningham cannot live without managing somebody."
If she managed him she did it admirably, for he and her step-daughters almost worshipped her. She was a young-looking woman still, and knew how to make the best of herself; and Dingle Hall was soon famed for its hospitality and the good taste of its mistress.
But long before that time there had been many and great changes at Church-Stile House. First the new house had been built on the little piece of sloping meadow-land looking over Hepshaw—Warstdale Manor, as it was called, and the master of Warstdale had taken up his abode there, but not until Langley had left them to become Harry Chester's wife.
And by-and-bye there was another wedding.
"What do you think Cathy has told me?" exclaimed Garth one day, when he found his wife sitting alone in their favorite room—a handsome library, with a side window commanding a view of Church-Stile House and the church. "I really think the girl must be clean daft to dream of such a thing, but she declares that with or without my consent she means to marry Logan."
"Well?" and Queenie laid down her work and smiled placidly in his face.
"Well, how can you sit there in that provokingly unconcerned way, you very tiresome woman, and looking exactly as though it were no news to you at all? our Cathy, too!"
"Because I have expected it all along," returned his wife calmly. "I knew, however much she might resist it, that in the end she would be true to herself and him."
"Why, if this is not enough to try a man's patience," exclaimed Garth, quite irritably for him. "You talk as though you approve of this monstrous match."