“Dear Lady Ushant, it is quite settled.”

“Poor young man!  But you must go and see Reginald.”  Then she was taken into the library and did see Reginald.  Were she to avoid him,—­specially,—­she would tell her tale almost as plainly as though she were to run after him.  He greeted her kindly, almost affectionately, expressing his extreme regret that his visit to Cheltenham should have been postponed and a hope that she would be much at Bragton.  “The distance is so great, Reginald,” said Lady Ushant.

“I can drive her over.  It is a long walk, and I had made up my mind to get Runciman’s little phaeton.  I shall order it for to-morrow if Miss Masters will come.”  But Miss Masters would not agree to this.  She would walk over again some day as she liked the walk, but no doubt she would only be in the way if she were to come often.

“I have told her about Miss Trefoil,” said Lady Ushant.  “You know, my dear, I look upon you almost as one of ourselves because you lived here so long.  But perhaps you had better postpone coming again till she has gone.”

“Certainly, Lady Ushant”

“It might be difficult to explain.  I don’t suppose she will stay long.  Perhaps she will go back the same day.  I am sure I shan’t know what to say to her.  But when anything is fixed I will send you in word by the postman.”

Reginald would have walked back with her across the bridge but that he had promised to go to his cousin immediately after lunch.  As it was he offered to accompany her a part of the way, but was stopped by his aunt, greatly to Mary’s comfort.  He was now more beyond her reach than ever,—­more utterly removed from her.  He would probably become Squire of Bragton, and she, in her earliest days, had heard the late Squire spoken of as though he were one of the potentates of the earth.  She had never thought it possible; but now it was less possible than ever.  There was something in his manner to her almost protective, almost fatherly,—­as though he had some authority over her.  Lady Ushant had authority once, but he had none.  In every tone of his voice she felt that she heard an expression of interest in her welfare, but it was the interest which a grown-up person takes in a child, or a superior in an inferior.  Of course he was her superior, but yet the tone of his voice was distasteful to her.  As she walked back to Dillsborough she told herself that she would not go again to Bragton without assuring herself that he was not there.

When she reached home many questions were asked of her, but she told nothing of the secrets of the Morton family which had been so openly confided to her.  She would only say that she was afraid that Mr. John Morton was very ill.

CHAPTER XXVII

Arabella again at Bragton