"Why?"

"Haven't I told you? I hated the thought of you having to work for such
a man as Slotman. I am thankful you are freed from any such need."

She had wronged him by that thought, she was glad to realise it. He had
not known, then.

"My uncle died. He left me his fortune and the old home of our family,
which he had recently bought back, Starden Hall, in Kent. I am living
there now with Mrs. Everard, my friend and companion, and now--"

While she had been waiting to be served with a bag that she did not
particularly require, Helen Everard watched them through the
shop-window. She watched him particularly.

"I like him; he looks honest," she thought. "It is all strange and
curious. If it were not true what Lady Linden said, why did she say it?
If it is true, then--then why--what is the cause of the quarrel between
them? Will they make it up? He does not look like a man who could treat
a woman badly. Oh dear!" Helen sighed, for she had her own plans. Like
every good woman, she was a born matchmaker at heart. She had a deep and
sincere affection for John Everard. She had decided long ago that she
must find Johnny a good wife, and here had been the very thing, only
there was this Mr. Hugh Alston.

She had been served with the bag, it had been wrapped in paper for her,
and now Helen came out. She had lingered as long as she could to give
this man every chance.