Aldyth's Inheritance by Eglanton Thorne

MRS. BLAND'S house stood in the High Street of the little town of Woodham. It was an old-fashioned, sedate-looking house, with a bow-window projecting on each side of the front door, and two rows of white-curtained windows above; but there was nothing prim about the garden which lay at the back of the house. This garden, with its wealth of sweet-scented flowers, its fruit trees, its sunflowers and hollyhocks standing out in rich contrast to the mellow red of the old walls, was a delightful place in which to spend a warm September afternoon.

About the middle of the garden, and bordering at its lower end the portion which, though not devoid of beauty, was obviously devoted to utility, was a strip of lawn shaded by trees. Here, on such an afternoon, Hilda Bland was lying, very much at her ease, in a hammock suspended between two sturdy trunks. She had a book in her hand, but reading was impossible, since Kate was on the path close by, chattering fast as she gathered flowers, and Gwen, her younger sister, was displaying great energy in her attempts to shake or knock down some of the ripe greengages that were visible at the top of the tall tree to which one end of the hammock was fastened.

"You won't get them that way, Gwen," cried Kate, as her sister threw a rake handle at the top of the tree, and it came rattling down through the branches.

"You are far more likely to break my head," said Hilda, from the hammock, "and you shake me dreadfully. You might have a little respect for my feelings."

"Nonsense; you are so lazy, Hilda! If you were anything of a sister, you would come and help me."

"Thanks for the suggestion, dear," said Hilda, sweetly, "but I prefer remaining where I am. " And she threw herself back upon the cushions with an air of indolent grace.

At all times Hilda had rather a languid air. Of slender form, below the middle height, with a colourless complexion, and features regular and delicately formed, she had a frail appearance beside her more robust-looking sisters; but, in truth, her health was as good as theirs. Mrs. Bland used to boast that her girls were never ill, thanks to the care with which she had followed the common sense rules for the rearing of his children laid down by her deceased husband, who had practised as a surgeon at Woodham. There was a dreamy, absent look in Hilda's large blue eyes, which some persons found interesting, and others quite the reverse. To the unimaginative it was a sleepy, stupid look; but the more discerning saw in it the sign of a thoughtful, reflective nature.

There was but the faintest resemblance between Hilda and Kate, who was eighteen months older. No one could be less dreamy or indolent than Kate, or, as she was more often called, Kitty. With black hair, keen dark eyes, and a warm brown complexion, now, at the end of the summer, deepened to a gipsy-like hue, she looked very much alive. Her form was sturdy, though trim, her features of a decided character, the nose of the Roman type, the chin well rounded and somewhat prominent, the mouth firm, though ready enough to break into smiles. She was the eldest of Mrs. Bland's family of four, and had passed her twenty-second birthday, but strangers often took her for younger than Hilda, there was so much of the child about Kitty still. Hilda was the quiet one of the family, fond of reading and dreaming. Kitty was seldom still. She seemed made for a country life, and was as happy in the rigours of winter as in the summer's prime. Riding, rowing, skating, there were few healthy exercises in which she did not excel. Of the liveliest temperament, she was a great talker and rather satirical, but happily her nature was too sound and warm for her satire to be tinged with malice or envy.

"I wish Charlie would come," she said presently, as she flitted to and fro amongst the flowers; "it chimed four ever so long ago. There, the quarter is striking now."

"Did you ever know Charlie come straight home from school? " asked Hilda, as she turned over the leaves of her Browning. "Why are you in such a hurry to see him?"

"Oh, you know! I am dying to hear about that new master. The arrival of a stranger at Woodham is such an event."

"Is there a new master? " asked Hilda, indifferently.

"Oh, Hilda! How stupid you are! Don't you know that Mr. Ferris was to leave at the end of last term, and did you not hear Miss Lorraine say the other day that a gentleman from London was coming to take his place-a B. A. of Cambridge, she said he was?"

"I did not hear it," said Hilda; "but Miss Lorraine has always so much to say, I cannot pretend to listen to every word."

"Well, I should think you might have listened to that," returned Kate, whilst Gwen paused for a moment in her futile efforts to bring down the greengages, and turned to hear what her sisters were saying.

"Why? What about him? What is his name, and what has he to do with us? " asked Hilda, anxious to get information as speedily as possible, that she might resume her reading.

"I have not heard his name, and I do not know that he has anything to do with us," said Kate, rather lamely; "but I hope, for Charlie's sake, that he is nice; and, of course, I should like to know whether he goes in for boating and that sort of thing, and would be likely to join our tennis club."

"Oh, you are thinking of the tennis," said Hilda, languidly; but the next moment she started up with an exclamation of pleasure, as she saw who was coming down the path from the house, accompanied by Mrs. Bland.

The visitor was a tall, slight girl, wearing a fresh cotton gown and a wide straw hat, as simply dressed as a girl could be, yet with a certain becoming grace peculiar to the wearer. You might not have known at first sight whether Aldyth Lorraine was to be considered pretty; but you would have felt in an instant that she was charming.