"Shall I get you a shawl?" he said; "it is not very warm here."

"No, thank you; I like the cool air. I want to come out and talk to you,
for grandpapa takes up all my attention when I am with him."

They began walking slowly up and down under the stone colonnade, which
had been added as a decoration to the front of the dark red brick house,
and Lady Dighton went on talking.

"I was so glad when I heard you were here. Ever since poor papa's death
I have felt quite uncomfortable about grandpapa. I came over to see him
as often as I could, but, of course, I had to think of Sir John."

"And Dighton is a good way from here?" Maurice said. He had not been
quite sure whether his cousin would not regard him as an interloper,
coming between her and her inheritance; and he was still sufficiently in
the dark, to feel the subject an awkward one.

"Only six miles, fortunately. I say fortunately, _now_, because I hope
we are going to be very good friends, but till I saw you, I was not sure
whether it was fortunate. It is so disagreeable to have near neighbours
whom one does not like, especially if they are relations."

Her frankness was amusing, but not very easy to answer. However, the two
or three words he found for the occasion did perfectly well.

"You are exactly like the Beresfords," she went on, "and that I know
must please grandpapa. He never liked me because I am like my mother's
family. I don't mean that he is not fond of me in one way; I only mean
that my being like the St. Clairs instead of like the Beresfords is one