CHAPTER XXIV.

A SECRET SORROW.

"Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face."

THESE words were in Aldyth's mind as she sprang up the next morning. The new duty which had come to her, the duty of making a home for her mother and sisters, and doing all in her power to promote their happiness, was very pleasant to the girl's loving heart. It was an easy transition from Wordsworth's familiar ode to the thought of John Glynne. She remembered that he had once spoken to her of the poem. He had appeared to feel strongly the force of the epithet stern as applied to duty. But duty had no sternness for Aldyth at this moment; her inheritance had ceased to be a burden, now that she could share it with others.

The thought of John Glynne lingered in Aldyth's mind while she was dressing. She remembered that the date had passed at which the Grammar School usually reopened, so no doubt John Glynne had returned to Woodham. The year had almost come round to the period at which last year he began his course of lectures. Would he be persuaded to give another course this autumn? Aldyth hoped so, with all her heart. She felt eager to ask her aunt if any such arrangement had been made. If Mr. Glynne gave lectures, she meant to attend them. There was assuredly no good reason why she should not. The distance might be considered a difficulty, but she could have the carriage, and if old John objected to being kept out so late, she would ask her aunt to let her stay at the Cottage for the night.

The pleasant prospect suggested by the lectures heightened the good spirits in which Aldyth had awoke. As she drew up her blind she saw with satisfaction that, though clouds still hung low in the sky, the sun was shining on the soaked lawn and well-washed trees. She hastened to her mother's room.

Mrs. Stanton confessed to having slept "pretty well," but felt unequal to rising at present.

Aldyth next visited her sister.

That young lady still lay in her bed, looking charmingly at her ease and perfectly well, but she at once consented to Aldyth's proposal that her breakfast should be sent to her.

"What a curious old room this is!" Gladys said, looking about her with amused eyes. "Do you know I was horribly afraid last night that a ghost would walk out of that cupboard? And I never slept on a bedstead of this description before. It makes me feel as if I were Queen Elizabeth, or some one remarkable. Did Queen Elizabeth ever come to Wyndham?"

"Not that I am aware of," said Aldyth, smiling.

"Then I need not be afraid of her ghost," said Gladys. "Shall I always sleep here?"

"Not if there is another room you like better," said Aldyth. "I could not but give mamma and aunt the best rooms last night. If I had known you would be coming so soon, I would have had a room got ready for you in a style more to your taste. We could easily make a pretty room of this."

"Yes, we could," said Gladys, eagerly. "Get rid of this catafalque of a bed and that hideous looking-glass, which gives me the flat, square visage of a Dutchwoman, and have a pretty French bed with pale blue drapery—blue is so becoming to me."

"Very well, I'll remember that important fact," said Aldyth.

"I will plan all the room, and tell you how it must be when you come up again," said Gladys. "Ah, is that the sun shining? I am glad. When shall I have a ride, Aldyth?"

"Have you a habit with you?" asked her sister.

"Oh yes; it is in one of the trunks; I don't know which," Gladys replied. "I had a new one soon after you left us, Aldyth. It is dark blue cloth, and I look so nice in it. I rode in the Park several times. Mamma got Captain Walker to escort me once. But I forget that I am in mourning. I shall have to wear my old-black one, I suppose. What a bore!"

"Well, as soon as you can get your habit unpacked, we will see about a ride—weather permitting," Aldyth said.

And she went down stairs, leaving Gladys in the best of humours.

Aldyth and her aunt, who had stayed the night at Wyndham, breakfasted together.

"Auntie," said Aldyth, as she came back from carrying her mother's breakfast to her, "are there to be lectures at Wyndham this autumn?"

"Ah, I am afraid not," said Miss Lorraine, shaking her head. "I have not told you that we are going to lose Mr. Glynne."

"To lose Mr. Glynne!" repeated Aldyth, colouring and turning a startled look upon her aunt.

"Yes, indeed," said Miss Lorraine, "it is a great pity, but I always felt he was too good for Woodham. He has got a good appointment abroad—the head mastership of some school or college at the Cape, I believe."

Aldyth hastily seated herself behind the urn. She felt that she had grown white and cold; the news was affecting her in a way she could hardly understand.

"How soon does he leave?" she ventured to ask, after a minute.

"Oh, his connection with the Grammar School is already severed," said her aunt. "Dr. Wheeler allowed a friend of Mr. Glynne's to take his place. Of course the boys do not like it, and their parents are all sorry to lose Mr. Glynne."

Aldyth silently busied herself with the coffee. Her hands trembled as she lifted the cups.

"Then I shall see him no more," was the thought that pressed painfully on her mind.

"He is coming down here again for a day or two before he leaves the country," said Miss Lorraine, after a pause, "just to get his things and say good-bye to his friends, you know. He could hardly leave us without a word."

"I suppose not," said Aldyth, with a coolness which might have been mistaken for indifference.

"I am very sorry he is going away," said her aunt. "As you know, I took to him from the first. One does not meet with such a man every day. It will be a grief to his mother to part with him."

"Yes," said Aldyth, finding it easy to respond to this remark.

Miss Lorraine talked on, discussing the event from various points of view, and apparently quite satisfied with Aldyth's brief rejoinders.

Aldyth made but a pretence of breakfasting. She was oppressed by a strange heart-sickness, which took away all the joy of her return, and robbed Duty of the bright aspect it had worn to her that morning.

"I might have known he would not stay long at Woodham," she said to herself. "He was so different from any one else I ever knew."

There were various little matters at Wyndham awaiting Aldyth's attention. She went through the business of the morning with a weight of disappointment on her mind. About noon she helped her mother to dress. Gladys, who had been long up, and had made a tour of the house under the guidance of Miss Lorraine, might have waited on her mother; but Mrs. Stanton seemed to prefer the attentions of her eldest daughter, and Gladys willingly gave place to Aldyth.

The morning had been showery, but by the time they all met at luncheon the sun seemed to have conquered the clouds, and there was the prospect of a fine afternoon.

Aldyth asked her aunt, who was about to return to Woodham, if she would like to drive in an open carriage.

"Yes, certainly; it will be much pleasanter," said Miss Lorraine. "Will you not come with me, Aldyth?"

"I do not know whether mamma can spare me," said Aldyth, looking at her mother.

But ere Mrs. Stanton could speak, Gladys said, eagerly—"Oh, do let me go, Aldyth. I want to see what Woodham looks like in fine weather."

"Very well, you shall go," said Aldyth, "and I will stay with mamma."

"No, you go too, my dear," said her mother, "if there is room for you all in the carriage. The drive will do you good."

"The phaeton will take us all, if I drive," said Aldyth. "But I do not like to leave you alone, mamma. You will feel so dull."

"No, dear; it will be good for me to rest quietly," said her mother. "I would rather you went, indeed."

It had occurred to her that she would be glad to avail herself of the opportunity thus afforded to wander through the old house alone, or attended by the housekeeper, whom she wished to question on matters concerning old Mr. Lorraine, about which she was curious.

After a little more persuasion, Aldyth consented to leave her mother to herself, and half an hour later drove off with her aunt and sister to Woodham. Midway they met Guy on horseback.

Aldyth felt the colour rush into her face as she remembered the last talk she had had with her cousin. But Guy's sangfroid was equal to the occasion. No one could look more unconscious of any cause for constraint. He nodded and raised his hat in the easiest manner in greeting to Miss Lorraine and Aldyth, as he reined in his horse, thus compelling Aldyth to draw up also, then cast a quick, admiring glance at the pretty girl on the back seat, whose delicate complexion and sunny hair were thrown into strong relief by her sombre attire.

"So you have come back, Aldyth," he said, carelessly. "When did you arrive?"

"Last evening," said Aldyth. "Let me introduce you, Guy, to my sister, Miss Stanton."

The air of admiration with which Guy made his bow was agreeable to Gladys. She liked the glance that lingered upon her, and the smile with which he said—

"You must have thought you were coming into a second deluge when you arrived last night, Miss Stanton. I shudder to think what Wyndham must have looked to you with the fields about it all swamped."

Gladys gave a light little laugh. "It had a dismal appearance, I must confess," she said. "Aldyth had prepared me for a scene of desolation, but the reality surpassed all the efforts of my imagination. I thought of the prisoner of Chillon, and pictured myself spending weary days and nights within water-girt walls. But happily the sunshine has relieved me of that horror."

"Wyndham is a dismal hole, though," said Guy. "Woodham is bad enough, but Wyndham is a few degrees worse."

"Don't depress me," said Gladys. "I am on my way to discover all the excitements your town can afford."

"Not many excitements, I fear," said Miss Lorraine, whilst Guy shrugged his shoulders significantly. "After all the pleasures you have enjoyed in town and at the seaside, our amusements will seem very commonplace."

"But there are pleasures peculiar to a country life, are there not?" said Gladys with an air of simplicity. "Hay-making, for instance. I should like to try that. I can fancy myself in a great hat, with a pitchfork in my hand, tossing the hay. It would be so charmingly idyllic."

"It would be if you turned haymaker," said Guy, with a meaning glance; "unfortunately the hay-harvest is over, but there are other country occupations—there is the shooting now, you know. But I forget, ladies do not shoot. They hunt, though, occasionally."

"Ah, that is what I should like to do," said Gladys; "if we do not share it, we like to hear about your sport. Do come in sometimes and tell us how the shooting goes."

"With pleasure," said Guy, as Aldyth gave her horse a touch and it moved on.

Guy looked his best on horseback, and Gladys was much impressed by her introduction to him.

"You never told me, Aldyth," she said, "how very good-looking your cousin was."

"Do you think him so?" Aldyth said.

"There can be no doubt that Guy is a handsome man," said Miss Lorraine, decisively; "one seldom sees such regular, well-cut features."

"Handsome is that handsome does," Aldyth reminded herself, as she thought of the suffering that attractive person had inflicted on Hilda Bland.

Having driven to Myrtle Cottage, and seen Miss Lorraine and her packages duly received by the little housemaid, the girls drove on slowly down the High Street, Gladys glancing about her with amusement, and well aware that she was an object of attention.

"How the people do stare!" she said. "One would think they never saw a stranger. Really, this is quite bustling, Aldyth. I did not expect to see such a crowded thoroughfare. It reminds me of Bond Street in the season."

"It does not remind me of Bond Street," said Aldyth, smiling. "This large house on the right is the home of my friends, the Blands; but Kitty and Hilda are away just now."

"Is not Hilda Bland the girl to whom your cousin was engaged?" asked Gladys.

"Yes," said Aldyth, reluctantly, not wishing to discuss that subject with Gladys.

"Whose fault was it that the engagement came to nought?" asked Gladys. "Did she care much for him?"

"A great deal more than he deserved," said Aldyth, her tones, in spite of herself, expressing indignation.

"Girls are sillies," said Gladys, emphatically. "There never yet was a man worth breaking one's heart for. But who is this one coming towards us, Aldyth? He looks rather nice."

Aldyth had already recognized the individual in question, and her heart had given a leap at the sight of him; but she answered quietly enough—

"That is Mr. Glynne. He was one of the masters at the Grammar School; but he is about to leave the town."

"What a pity! I like the look of him," said Gladys. "He is not good-looking, but he has the air of a gentleman."

"He is a gentleman," Aldyth could not help saying.

She was drawing in her horse before the door of the library when he came in sight round a turn in the street. It would have been easy for him, as they were about to alight, to step across the street to speak to Aldyth; but the idea did not appear to occur to him. He lifted his hat courteously, and passed on along the opposite pavement.

A keen, cruel pain seized upon Aldyth. She hardly heard the remarks Gladys was making, or knew how she transacted the business that took her into the shop. One thought possessed her—the thought that John Glynne had only come for a day or two, and that he would go away without her having exchanged a word with him. And yet he could have spoken to her then; and he would not take the trouble to cross the road that he might do so! It was most mortifying to be treated so by one whom she had counted a friend.

With a sense of intolerable shame, Aldyth took herself to task for feeling more interest in John Glynne than he apparently felt in her. But though she was ashamed of it, the feeling was not to be crushed in a moment. Thoughts full of pain and disappointment occupied her mind as they drove home, making it difficult for her to pay proper attention to what Gladys was saying.

"It is growing cold," Gladys remarked, with a shiver, as they turned into the carriage drive to Wyndham; "the days are so short now. It will soon be winter."

Aldyth roused herself with an effort, and tried to recover a bright demeanour ere she saw her mother; but she felt as if winter had already begun.