Now, for some time, she avoided that part of the road where the opening of the plantation gave a view of the Villa; but she was drawn towards it at last, and she leant forward on her horse and looked across the lake at the great, white place shining in the autumn sunlight.  It seemed very still and quiet, and there was no sign of life about the place; the lake itself was deserted save by one of the steamers on which were only a few passengers well wrapped-up against the now keen air.  The appearance of the white, long-stretching place struck her with a sense of desertion, and desolation, and with a sigh she turned and rode away.

That afternoon, as she was coming in from the stable Jessie came running towards her.

“Oh, Miss Ida, there’s Lord and Lady Bannerdale and Lady Vayne and two of the young ladies in the drawing-room.”

“Very well,” said Ida, quietly; and removing her right-hand gauntlet, she went straight into the drawing-room.

In accordance with her father’s wish and her own, perhaps mistaken, pride she had avoided all these people hitherto; but there was no need to avoid them any longer; she was their equal in birth, and her newly discovered wealth effectually removed any cause for pride.  Lady Bannerdale, a motherly and good-natured woman, came forward to meet her, and took her by both hands.

“My dear, we have come over at once to tell you how glad we are!” she said.  “We heard the good news from Mr. Wordley, and neither I nor my husband could wait another day before we came to congratulate you.”

Lady Vayne, too, held Ida’s hand and looked at her with affectionate sympathy.

“And we felt the same, my dear,” she said; “so you must not think us intrusive.”

Ida shook hands with them all and rang for the tea.  She was very quiet and subdued, but the little cold look of surprise with which she had at one time met their advances was now absent, and they could perceive that she was glad to see them.

“Our joy in the good news is not altogether unselfish and disinterested, my dear Miss Ida,” said Lord Bannerdale.  “That Heron Hall should be shut up and deserted, while there is so charming a mistress to represent the old family, was little short of a general misfortune.  You cannot tell how anxious and concerned we have been about you—­but we will say no more about that.  I trust a brighter star has risen above the old house, and that it is entering upon brighter fortunes.  At any rate, let that be as it may, we want you to believe how delighted we are to have you back again, and under such happy auspices.”  “And we want to say, too, dear,” said Lady Bannerdale, while Lady Vayne nodded assentingly, “that we hope you have really come back to us, that you will be one of us and let us see a great deal of you.  Of course, under the circumstances,” she glanced at Ida’s black dress, “we are debarred from expressing our pleasure in festivity; but we hope you will come to us quite quietly, and very often, and that you will let us treat you as one of our own dear girls.”