“Do you think we would run any risk if we sat down here a few moments?  Suppose we try it.  We can walk again if you feel in the least chilled.  I think the view so lovely from here.  Besides, I can see the carriage the moment it enters the gate.”

Miss Pringle sat down with the air of a person who was hardly conscious of what she was doing.

“You say she told you she had left you something when you nearly went away,” she went on in the hesitating manner of one who has been interrupted while reading aloud and is not quite sure that she has resumed at the right place.  “You mean when that assistant of Dr. Evans wanted to marry you?  I’m glad you wouldn’t have him.”

“He was very kind and—­and nice,” said Nora gently.  “But, of course, he wasn’t a gentleman.”

“I shouldn’t like to live with a man at all,” retorted Miss Pringle, with unshakable conviction.  “I think they’re horrid; but of course it would be utterly impossible if he weren’t a gentleman.”

Nora’s eyes twinkled with amusement; she gave a little gurgle of laughter.  “He came to see Miss Wickham, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with him.  First, she said she couldn’t spare me, and then she said that I had a very bad temper.”

“I like her saying that,” retorted her listener.

“It’s quite true,” said Nora with a deprecating wave of her hand.  “Every now and then I felt I couldn’t put up with her any more.  I forgot that I was dependent on her, and that if she dismissed me, I probably shouldn’t be able to find another situation, and I just flew at her.  I must say she was very nice about it; she used to look at me and grin, and when it was all over, say:  ’My dear, when you marry, if your husband’s a wise man, he’ll use a big stick now and then.’”

“Old cat!”

“I should like to see any man try it,” said Nora with emphasis.

Miss Pringle dismissed the supposition with a wave of her hand.  “How much do you think she’s left you?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, of course I don’t know; the will is going to be read this afternoon, when they come back from the funeral.  But from what she said, I believe about two hundred and fifty pounds a year.”

“It’s the least she could do.  She’s had the ten best years of your life.”  Nora gave a long, happy sigh.  “Just think of it!  Never to be at anybody’s beck and call again.  I shall be able to get up when I like and go to bed when I like, go out when I choose and come in when I choose.  Think of what that means!”

“Unless you marry—­you probably will,” said Miss Pringle in a discouraging tone.

“Never.”

“What do you purpose doing?”

“I shall go to Italy, Florence, Rome; oh, everywhere I’ve so longed to go.  Do you think it’s horrible of me?  I’m so happy!”

“My dear child!” said Miss Pringle with real feeling.

At that moment the sound of carriage wheels came to them.  Turning quickly, Nora saw the carriage containing Mr. and Mrs. Wickham coming up the drive.  “There they are now.  How the time has gone!”