Aldyth's Inheritance by Eglanton Thorne

JOHN GLYNNE would have been surprised could he have known how little Aldyth had enjoyed that ride with her cousin. She had been conscious of something unusual in Guy's manner towards her. He had been more assiduous in his attentions to her than he was wont to be, yet at the same time he had vexed her by contemptuous allusions to John Glynne, and the report that had been circulated in Woodham.

It had become a sore subject with Aldyth, and she was far from appreciating the witticisms in which Guy indulged at her expense. Yet Guy had no intention of annoying her. On the contrary, he meant to try his best to please his cousin. But it was not easy to substitute for the old, free and easy, cousinly intercourse, the new rôle he had taken upon himself. He had not succeeded in his endeavours, and he felt that he had not.

"I shall never be able to do it as I should," he said to himself, as he rode back to Wyndham, after lingering a while in the High Street, in the hope of seeing the Blands. "I wish I had not promised; but Wyndham is worth a sacrifice; though it is hard that a fellow may not choose his own wife. " And Guy felt anything but comfortable as he surveyed the position in which he found himself.

A few days earlier Stephen Lorraine had ridden back from Woodham in the worst of humours. He had never accustomed himself to put any kind of restraint on his irritability, and he had no sooner returned, than his household had cause to know that something had "put him out."

Guy, who came into dinner a few minutes late, received his share of his uncle's wrath.

"You will be good enough to remember, sir, that my dinner hour is six. It is doubtless disagreeable to you to conform to my habits; but it cannot be for long now, and I think I have a right to expect that you will pay me that degree of respect."

Happily Guy, who was tolerably easy of temper, did not encourage his uncle's quarrelsome tendency.

"I am sorry to be late, uncle," he said. "I assure you I like my dinner at six; but that fellow Ames detained me. Is there any soup coming for me?"

"I believe so; but if you have any consideration for your throat, you will have nothing to do with it," said the old man, grimly. "Cook evidently considers pepper the chief ingredient in making soup."

"It is rather highly seasoned, certainly," said Guy, as he tasted the soup the servant placed before him. "How did you find things at Woodham? Much as usual, I suppose?"

An impatient sound escaped old Stephen's lips, but he said nothing, and Guy did not pursue the inquiry, though he was full of wonder as to the cause of his uncle's ill-temper. The few carefully-chosen remarks on which he ventured being ungraciously received, Guy finished his dinner in silence. As the dessert was placed on the table, the old man's manner brightened somewhat. He sent for a bottle of special port from the cellar, and having filled his own glass, pushed the black, cob-webbed bottle towards Guy.

"Fill up; you'll find it worth drinking," he said. "It's almost as good as the '54 will prove, I trust, which I am keeping for your wedding."

Guy laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Time enough to think of that, sir," he said, lightly.

"Nay, not so," said the old man, with repressed eagerness; "it is time you began to think about it seriously, my lad, if I am to have the pleasure of drinking the health of your pretty bride."

Guy coloured, and fell to studying his wine-glass to hide his embarrassment.

"I should be sorry to think that you would not see my wedding, sir," he replied, with becoming seriousness; "but happily you are a rare man for your years, and will, I trust, see many more, for I am but a young fellow to think of marrying."

"Nonsense," said the old man, sharply; "you are twenty-four, and in your case there is no reason why marriage should be delayed. Now, do not smile, Guy, if you please. I am in earnest, and I wish you to be."

"Certainly, uncle, I will consider what you say; but a fellow can hardly get married at a moment's notice."

"Pshaw! How you talk! " cried old Stephen, impatiently. "One would think you had to go far to seek a bride. Come, sir, do you know what is being said about Aldyth at Woodham? Do you know that the gossips will have it she is going to marry that jackanapes in cap and gown-the fellow who lectures-tush! I've forgotten his name, but you know whom I mean."