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"Why, there is the woman who was at the opera last night," exclaimed Morella, at last. "How in the world did an outsider like that get here, I wonder? She is quite pretty, close don't you think so, Hector? Oh, I forgot, you know her, of course; you talked to her last night, I remember." Hector did not answer; he was afraid to let himself speak. Morella Winmarleigh was looking her best.
"Yes," he said, "my mother and Morella Winmarleigh, whom the world in general and my mother in particular have decided I am going to marry." She did not speak. She felt suddenly ashamed she could ever have doubted him; it must be the warping atmosphere of Mrs. Devlyn's society for these last days which had planted thoughts, so foreign to her nature, in her.
And as he looked at her he thought to himself, here was a rare thing, a beautiful woman with a tender heart. He knew she would be gentle and kind to the meanest of God's creatures. And again the vision of her at Bracondale came to him his mother would grow to love her perhaps even more than Morella Winmarleigh! How she would glorify everything commonplace with those tender ways of hers!
But Morella Winmarleigh was perfection! She owned the enormous property adjoining Bracondale; she was twenty-six years old, of unblemished reputation, nice looking, and not not one of those modern women who are bound to cause anxieties. Under any circumstances one could count upon Morella Winmarleigh behaving with absolute propriety. A girl born to be a mother-in-law's joy.
The box that usually received it was quite full, and several letters lay about on the table. She placed her two with the rest, and turned to leave the hall. She could not face all the company on the lawn just yet, and went back to her room, meeting Morella Winmarleigh bringing some of her own to be posted as she passed through the saloon.
"The house is very full," Miss Winmarleigh said it was a remark she always made on big nights "and yet hardly any new faces about." "Yes," said Hector. "Does it compare with the Opera-House in Paris, Hector?" Miss Winmarleigh hardly ever went abroad. "No," said Hector. Not only had Delaval Stirling retained his seat, but Chris Harford, Mrs.
If I can find out her name before I go I will, though perhaps you think it is out of the frying-pan into the fire, as it makes him no more in the mood to marry Morella Winmarleigh than before. Unless, of course, this new one is unkind to him. We shall be home on Saturday, dear Aunt Milly, and I will come round to lunch on Sunday and give you all my news.
"When will she realize I can take care of myself?" "Never," said Lady Anningford, "until you have married Morella Winmarleigh; then she would feel you were in good hands." He laughed again bitterly this time. "Morella Winmarleigh! I would not be faithful to her for a week!" "I wonder if you would be faithful to any woman, Hector?
And at this moment, through the parted willows, there appeared the sullen, mocking eyes of Morella Winmarleigh. She pushed the bushes aside, and, followed by Lord Wensleydown, she came towards the summer-house. Her slow senses had taken in the scene. Hector was evidently very unhappy, she thought, and that hateful woman had been teasing him, no doubt.
Theodora had completely disappeared. Miss Winmarleigh kept up a constant chatter of commonplaces, to which, when he replied at all, he gave random answers. And every moment she became more annoyed and uneasy. She had known Hector since she was a child. Their places adjoined in the country, and she saw him constantly when there.
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