Aldyth's Inheritance by Eglanton Thorne

MRS. STANTON sat alone in the drawing room for an hour after the others had driven away. Aldyth had converted this into a very pretty room. Even Mrs. Stanton could find no fault with the taste she had displayed in bringing out all that was picturesque in the old furniture, and blending with it modern artistic draperies and various objects of modern antique. The chair in which Mrs. Stanton reclined was of the easiest, the long French window by which she sat looked out on a stretch of sunlit lawn, with some bright dahlias blooming against the box hedge, and some fine old trees rising beyond.

Mrs. Stanton's mood as she sat there was one of quiet, half-melancholy content. She was far from being crushed by her bereavement. Her affection for her husband had not been of such a clinging, penetrating nature as to make life seem impossible without him. She had taken the lead in their life, making his will give place to hers, and she now felt quite capable of ordering her own life and that of her children.

As she reviewed the past and looked forward to the future, her thoughts took the form of self-congratulation. She was moved to thankfulness that things were as they were. They might have been so different. What a fortunate circumstance it Was that Aldyth should inherit a fortune just when her mother was about to lose everything! For that all was gone Mrs. Stanton felt convinced from what her husband had told her of his affairs, though she was yet awaiting the particulars that the next mail would bring.

Mrs. Stanton had some fancy work in her lap, but she felt a distaste for any occupation. It was easier to lean back and give herself up to daydreams. Presently her imagination was filling the long drawing room with a party of visitors.

"The place is dull," she thought; "but our life here need not be dull. A country house is pleasant enough when it is full of guests. When a proper time has passed, we can invite whom we like. There are surely some nice people in the neighbourhood. We can give dinner parties and tennis-parties and dances. We must do so for Gladys's sake. Captain Walker could come over from Colchester; Cecil could bring some of his friends from London. We could go up to town for a few weeks in the season, perhaps. I suppose Aldyth could afford it. She has never told me what her income is; perhaps she does not yet know herself; but it can hardly be less than three thousand, and that would cover a good many expenses."

As she thought thus, Mrs. Stanton grew weary of inaction. She was naturally robust, and she was beginning to recover from the shock of trouble, which had not made her really ill. She bethought her that she should like to go through the house, and make herself thoroughly acquainted with what she already regarded as her own domain.

As she rose and crossed the room, she caught sight of the reflection of herself in a long mirror opposite, and was struck with the majestic grace of her tall fine figure in its flowing black robe. After all, she was not old or insignificant yet; life must still have pleasant things in store for her. And there was a revival of energy manifest in her look and bearing as she walked from the room.

She started on her tour of inspection alone, but presently found her progress barred by locked doors, so, returning to the drawing room, she rang the bell and summoned the house keeper to her presence.

Mrs. Rogers came readily, for she, in common with the other servants, felt much interest in the beautiful, elegant widow who had taken up her abode at the Hall. Mrs. Rogers was old enough to remember the time when this lady, then a lovely, high-spirited girl, had been the belle of Colchester, and how her marriage with Captain Lorraine and his consequent disfavour with his uncle had set every one talking. The housekeeper entered with an ingratiating smile on her face, and dropped an old-fashioned curtsey as she stood before the lady.

"I thought I should like to take a turn through the rooms; it would help to pass the time," said Mrs. Stanton; "but I find several of the doors locked."

"Ah, yes, ma'am; I keep the rooms locked that are not in use. " replied the old woman. "Miss Aldyth being here so little, I thought it best to do so. There's one room full of Mr. Guy's things. And I have the key of the library, and the keys of the bureau too. Mr. Greenwood told me to lock the room the day after the squire died. When either of the Mr. Greenwoods came, I gave the key to them, and when they went away, they locked the door and brought it back to me. And Miss Aldyth, she said I'd better keep the keys of the bureau, too, in case they were wanted; for you see Miss Aldyth was not always here. She went home with Miss Lorraine a day or two after the funeral. But I'll fetch the keys for you, ma'am."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Stanton, seating herself with an air of leisure.

In a few moments, Mrs. Rogers returned with her key-basket. "Perhaps I had better go with you, ma'am," she suggested. "I fear you may find some of the locks rather stiff, and the rooms a bit dusty."

"No, thank you; I will not take up your time," replied Mrs. Stanton, languidly. "I dare say I shall not investigate very far, and I do not care to feel hurried."

"Very well, ma'am; but if so be you should want me, I'll come in a minute."

"You've been at the Hall a good many years, I believe," said Mrs. Stanton.

"More than thirty years, ma'am."

"Ah, then you've seen many changes. You would remember Captain Lorraine."

"Yes, indeed, ma'am. I remember him well. As nice a gentleman as ever was. And Miss Aldyth's as like him as can be. It seems only right that she should be here in his stead, though I am sorry for Mr. Guy."

"Ah, I have not yet the pleasure of his acquaintance," said Mrs. Stanton; "but from what I have heard I should imagine him an agreeable young man.