"I didn't ask you," said Ida, with a laugh, putting her hand on his
arm. "If we all got our deserts, how sad it would be for everyone of
us."
Mr. Wordley grunted.
"To-morrow I shall pay a sum of money into the bank for you, and you
will have to drive over and get a cheque-book; and you can amuse
yourself by drawing cheques until I come again."
He lingered as long as he could, and kept the carriage waiting some
time; but at last he went and Ida was left alone to face the strange
change in her fortune. She sat before the fire dreaming for a few
minutes, then she wandered over the old house from room to room; and
every room had its memories and associations for her. In the library
she could almost fancy that her father was sitting in the high-backed
chair which was still drawn up in its place to the table; and she went
and sat in it and touched with reverent, loving hand the books and
papers over which he had been wont to bend. She stood before his
portrait and gazed at it with tear-dimmed eyes, and only the
consciousness of the love she had borne him enabled her to bear his
absence. As she passed through the hall the newly risen moon was
pouring in through the tall window, and, followed by Donald and Bess,
who had not left her for a moment, she opened the great hall door and
went on to the terrace, and walking to the end, stood and looked
towards the ruined chapel in which her father had buried his treasure.
Up to this moment she had been buoyed up by excitement and the joy and
pleasure of her return to the old house; but suddenly there fell a
cloud-like depression upon her; she was conscious of an aching void, a
lack of something which robbed her heart of all its joy. She had no
need to ask herself what it was: she knew too well. Her old home had
come back to her, she was the mistress of a large fortune, she stood,
as it were, bathed in the sunshine of prosperity; but her heart fell
cold and dead, and the sunshine, bright as it was, well-nigh dazzling,
indeed, had no warmth in it. She was a great heiress now, would no
doubt soon be surrounded by friends. She had been poor and well-nigh
friendless that day Stafford had taken her in his arms and kissed her
for the first time; but, ah, how happy she had been!