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Only in this one thing, I see you will go your own way." Lady Bassett put in her word. "Well, but this one thing is the happiness or misery of her whole life. I cannot blame her for looking well before she leaps." A grateful look from Ruperta's glorious eyes repaid the speaker.
Ruperta's eyes were wet at this; but she told her mother she ought not to agitate Lady Bassett, and she so ill. "And that is true, my good, sensible girl," said Mrs. Bassett; "but it has lain in my heart these nine years, and I could not keep it to myself any longer. But you are a beauty and a spoiled child, and so I suppose you think nothing of his giving you his tippet to keep you warm."
At last it burst. He had heard of Ruperta's repeated visits to Huntercombe Hall. "You are not dealing fairly with me, you two," said he. "I allowed you to go once to see a woman that says she is very ill; but I warned you she was the cunningest woman in creation, and would make a fool of you both; and now I find you are always going. This will not do.
Bassett shook her head. "She is much changed. She says she should be better if we were all at peace; but I don't know." "Oh, mamma, I wish it was to-morrow." They went to Huntercombe next day; and, ill as she was, Lady Bassett received them charmingly. She was startled by Ruperta's beauty and womanly appearance, but too well bred to show it, or say it all in a moment.
She had a glove on her left hand, and a little Bible in her right hand, which was large, but white, and finely formed. She delivered a short prayer, and opened her text: "Walk honestly; not in strife and envying." Just as the text was given out, Ruperta's maid pinched her, and the young lady, looking up, saw her father coming to see what was the matter.
They dined early on Sunday, at Highmore, and Ruperta took her maid for a walk in the afternoon, and came back in time to hear the female preacher. Half the village was there already, and presently the preacher walked to her station. To Ruperta's surprise, she was a lady, richly dressed, tall and handsome, but with features rather too commanding.
Compton had no more plausible theory ready, and declined to commit himself to Ruperta's; so that topic fell to the ground. One day he found her perched as usual, but with her bright little face overclouded. By this time the intelligent boy was fond enough of her to notice her face. "What's the matter, Perta?" "Ruperta. The matter? Puzzled again! It is very serious this time." "Tell me, Ruperta."
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