you, now that you are your own mistress?'

'I don't know that, dear. I think I love him too much to do that.
And yet it would seem like a sin against my father.'

The spring months passed, and Milly brightened a little as the days
went by. She spent a deal of time amongst the poor; and I think her
devotion to that duty helped her to put aside her sorrow more than
anything else could have done. I was always with her, sharing in all
her work; and I do not believe she had a thought hidden from me at
this time.

Mrs. Darrell had not gone abroad yet. She lived a useless, listless
life, doing nothing, and caring for nothing, as it seemed. More than
once she made preparations for her departure, and then changed her
mind at the last moment.

Late in June we heard of Mr. Egerton's return to Cumber; and a few
days after that he came to Thornleigh. Mrs. Darrell was in her own
room, Milly and I alone in the drawing-room, when he called. My poor
girl turned very pale, and the tears came into her eyes as she and
Angus Egerton met. He spoke of her loss with extreme delicacy, and
was full of tender sympathy. He had news to tell her of himself. A
distant relation of his mother's had died lately, leaving him six
thousand a year. He had come back to restore Cumber to its old
splendour, and to take his proper place in the county.

While they were talking together in low confidential tones, not at
all embarrassed by my presence, Mrs. Darrell came into the room. She
was paler than usual; but there was an animation in her face that