Aldyth's Inheritance by Eglanton Thorne

ON the afternoon of New Year's Day, Aldyth, coming down the London Road, met Kitty Bland and Gwendolen, then at home for her holidays, on their way to the river, carrying their skates.

"Oh, Aldyth, we were thinking of calling for you," said Kitty. "Charlie brings us word that the ice is splendid, so we are going to try it. Do come with us!"

"Oh, do," implored Gwen. "It will be so jolly to have you with us."

Aldyth hesitated. The sleet had long ceased, and the sun was making attempts to break forth. The prospect of skimming over the ice was very tempting.

"I was going to see Hilda," she said. "How is it she is not with you?"

"Oh, Hilda is good for nothing," replied Kitty. "She will not stir out to-day."

"Do you mean that she is ill? " asked Aldyth.

"Well, no, not exactly-she has a headache," said Kitty.

Gwen moved on a few paces; it was not pleasant to stand in the keen wind.

"The fact is, Aldyth," said Kitty, hurriedly, in lower tones, "Hilda has been crying till she is worn out. Your uncle came to see mother yesterday afternoon, and made a grand commotion. I never saw mother so upset. You know she does not often get put out, but when she is angry, she can be very warm, and I can tell you mother was angry with Hilda last evening."

"With Hilda! " said Aldyth, in surprise. "Why, what has Hilda done?"

"Oh, do not ask me," said Kitty; "you had better hear the story from her own lips. I must say I am disgusted with Hilda. Do try, Aldyth, to put a little common sense into her, if you see her. But won't you get your skates and come with us?"

"I think not, thank you," said Aldyth. "I had better go to Hilda, if she is in trouble. I suppose she would like to see me?"

"Of course she would," said Kitty; "she will get some sympathy perhaps from you. I am afraid I have not given her much. She says I cannot understand her, and really she is right."

In spite of a warm protest from Gwen, Aldyth went on her way, full of wonder as to what had occurred to disturb Mrs. Bland and make Hilda unhappy.

Mrs. Bland was engaged with visitors, so Aldyth went at once to her friend's room.

Hilda had risen by this time, but she wore her dressing-gown, which was a very becoming one of pale blue, so that she looked charmingly invalidish as she sat in her easy-chair by the fire. It would not be correct to say that she looked ill. Her face was not more colourless than it always was; but she leaned back in her chair with a listless, languid air, and her expression was melancholy in the extreme, whilst her reddened eyelids testified to past weeping. She uttered a faint exclamation of pleasure as her friend entered the room.

"Oh, I am glad to see you," she said; "how good of you to come!"

"Why, Hilda dear, what is the matter? " Aldyth asked. "I met Kitty, and she gave me a most bewildering account of you. Do tell me what it is all about."

"Oh, Aldyth, I am the most miserable girl in the world! " Hilda exclaimed, and again burst into tears.