room, and called the old lady by name.

The room, however, was empty and she received no answer, so she wandered
on to the terrace and leant over the stone parapet that looked over the
gardens and the fountains, and the distant park beyond, and she thought
of the photograph in the drawer.

And then and there there came into Vera Neville's mind a thought that,
beginning with nothing more than an indistinct and idle fancy, ended in
a set and determined purpose.

The thought was this:--

"If Sir John Kynaston ever comes down here, I will marry him."

She said it to herself, deliberately and calmly, without the slightest
particle of hesitation or bashfulness. She told herself that what her
relations were perpetually impressing upon her concerning the
desirableness of her marrying and making a home of her own, was perfectly
just and true. It would undoubtedly be a good thing for her to marry; her
life was neither very pleasant nor very satisfactory to herself or to any
one else. She had never intended to end her days at Sutton Vicarage; it
had only been an intermediate condition of things. She had no vocation
for visiting the poor, or for filling that useful but unexciting family
office of maiden aunt; and, moreover, she felt that, with all their
kindness to her, her brother-in-law and his wife ought not to be burdened
with her support for longer than was necessary. As to turning governess,
or companion, or lady-help, there was an incongruity in the idea that
made it too ludicrous to contemplate even for an instant. There is no
other way that a handsome and penniless woman can deliver her friends