Aldyth's Inheritance by Eglanton Thorne

IT was not surprising that Mrs. Stanton should seem sorely depressed after the arrival of the mail from Australia. The news it brought was of the worst. The bankruptcy of the large mercantile house was utter; nothing could be saved from the wreck for the widow and children of the senior partner. They might console themselves with the thought that they were not the only sufferers. Upon every one connected with the business, loss had fallen, and in most cases, it meant ruin.

It was easy to find cause for blame, and public opinion did not spare the principals. Mrs. Stanton might count it a fortunate circumstance that the broad seas now separated her from the social circle at Melbourne which had formerly courted and flattered her.

Aldyth could not wonder that her mother shed many tears over the letters which told all that could be told of her husband's last hours, and gave particulars of the interment. She could comprehend her mother's nervousness and irritability, the evidence of sleepless nights and wearing emotions. But she could not understand the aversion her mother seemed to have conceived for Guy Lorraine.

That gentleman made his call at the Hall not long after his introduction to Gladys. On the first occasion, Mrs. Stanton declined to see him, but Guy, considering himself one of the family, came again and again, bent on making himself agreeable, and eager to be of service to the new residents, so that it was not easy for Mrs. Stanton to avoid him. She sat on thorns whilst he was present, and his departure was the signal for an outbreak of bitter comments on his dulness, awkwardness, and general lack of social graces. Yet she always maintained an outward show of cordiality towards him. Indeed, it seemed to Aldyth that her mother was especially careful to fail in no courtesy with regard to Guy, and she interpreted this as a sign that her mother shared her regretful consciousness of the loss her inheritance had involved for Guy.

Gladys was ready enough to raise a laugh at Guy's expense, yet his visits were not disagreeable to her. It pleased her to play off upon him her most fascinating airs, with a result highly gratifying to her vanity. He had been struck with admiration at the first sight of her, and he readily succumbed to her fascinations. Ere Hilda Bland returned to her home, he was utterly, hopelessly enslaved by his new charmer. The fire kindled within him was, as Aldyth was quick to perceive, no spurious flame. He was genuinely in love at last, and Aldyth could almost pity him, little as he deserved pity, for she saw no hope of his wooing successfully. It was not to be supposed that Mrs. Stanton would allow her pretty Gladys to wed a mere farmer.

Yet Mrs. Stanton did not discourage the intimacy to the extent Aldyth expected. She was fretful with her daughter when she showed a preference for Guy's society; but she did not endeavour to prevent their meeting. Gladys would have found her days dull at Wyndham but for his frequent visits.

There were few other visitors during the early days of their bereavement. Mr. Greenwood, and his brother, the solicitor, came pretty frequently, and were welcome guests, although their visits were ostensibly on business. The banker's large house in the High Street seemed grievously large and vacant to him without the wife who had made it so cheerful a home. Aldyth was a great favourite with him, and he was perhaps, glad that his office of executor to Stephen Lorraine's will afforded him many pretexts for visiting her at Wyndham. The evenings spent in her pretty drawing room, with three charming women exerting themselves for his entertainment, were a pleasant contrast to those he passed in dreariness at home.

The rides which Gladys took almost daily were her chief source of pleasure in this quiet season. Dearly as she loved the exercise, Aldyth could seldom accompany her, for her mother, shrinking more and more from being left to her own thoughts, constantly required her companionship. Aldyth was content to forego her own pleasure; it was so sweet to feel that her mother needed her.

Meanwhile the pretty form of Gladys, mounted on Pansy-she nearly always rode Pansy-with a groom following on another horse, became a familiar sight at Woodham; for she loved the slight sensation she created when she rode down the High Street. Not seldom she returned from her ride accompanied by Guy, who was ever on the watch for a chance of meeting her. It vexed Mrs. Stanton to see her return so escorted; but if she gave expression to her annoyance, Gladys only laughed and told her mother not to be afraid, she knew what she was about.

"I do not think I am exactly the one to wed a country bumpkin," she said one day. "It would be different, would it not, mamma, if he had been the heir to Wyndham?"

It was an aimless shaft of satire, but it found a mark of which she little guessed. Her mother's face blanched; a spasm as of positive pain passed over it. Gladys saw and wondered. What had she said? Surely nothing worse than many of her careless speeches?

"It is not fair to call Guy a bumpkin," said Aldyth, who was present.

"Perhaps not," replied Gladys; "but he is a farmer, is he not? Can you fancy me a farmer's wife, with my sleeves turned up, making butter?"

"No, I cannot," said Aldyth, and laughed-it was impossible to take Gladys seriously-"but I do not think Guy will expect his wife to make the butter; there are few farmers wives who do that nowadays."

Mrs. Stanton breathed more freely as she heard their light talk. Had she betrayed herself? No, they could never suspect it; but the terrible pressure of her secret! At times it was insupportable.