She held out her hand. Miss Vavasor drew herself up and looked with cold annihilation into her eyes. The warm blood rose from Hester’s heart to her brain, but she quietly returned her gaze. It seemed minutes where only seconds passed. Hester smiled at last and said,

“I am glad you are not going to be my aunt, Miss Vavasor. I am afraid I would cause you nothing but grief.”

“Thank goodness, no!” cried Miss Vavasor, with a slightly hysterical laugh. Unused to having such a strong, full, pure look fixed fearlessly upon her without defiance, it had unnerved her. Notwithstanding her educated self-command, she felt cowed before the majesty of Hester. She now had to go back to her nephew and confess that she had utterly failed where she had expected an easy victory. She had to tell him that his lady was the most peculiar, most unreasonable young woman she had ever had to deal with, and that she was not only unsuited to him, but quite unworthy of him.

She turned and walked away, attempting a show of dignity but showing only haughtiness—an adornment only the possessor does not recognize as counterfeit. Then Hester turned and walked in the opposite direction, feeling that one portion of her history was at an end.

She did not know that she was constantly attended at some distance by a tall, portly gentleman of ruddy complexion and military bearing. He had seen her interview with Miss Vavasor and had beheld with delight the unmistakable signs of serious difference that culminated in their parting.

Since coming to London with Hester he had, as far as possible, kept guard over her, and had known a good deal more of her goings and comings than she was aware of—all with completely unselfish devotion. He was willing to follow at a distance, ready to intervene at any moment when intervention may have proved desirable. She had let him know that she had found her brother, that he was very ill, and that she was helping to nurse him, but she had not yet asked his help. As if in obedience to orders, therefore, he did not even now call on her. But the next day he found a summons waiting for him at his club.

Thinking it better to prepare him for what she was about to ask of him, Hester mentioned in her note that in a day or two she was going to Yrndale with her brother and his wife.

“Marriage and embezzlement!” exclaimed the major when he read it. “This complicates matters. Poor devil! If he were not such a confounded ape, I should pity him! But the smallpox and a wife may perhaps do something for him!”

When he reached the house Hester received him warmly, and at once made her request that he would go with them. He agreed immediately, but thought she had better not say he was coming, as under the circumstances he would not receive a proper welcome.