Things went on smoothly as usual at Lancaster Park after Mrs. West had
given her consent to my lady's clever plan. They put Richard West's
child out of their heads for awhile and began their preparations for
the guests who were expected to arrive the last of May, to welcome the
returning master of Lancaster Park. Mrs. West found time in the hubbub
to fit up a tidy little room next her own for the little American niece
who was coming to her from so far away. Then she, too, dismissed the
matter from her mind, save now and then when in solitary moments she
would wonder to herself what Dick West's child would be like, and if
she would be old enough to put to school.
"It is lucky that I have a good store of savings," thought the lonely
woman to herself. "I will find a good boarding-school for little
Leonora, if she is old enough to go, and the child shall be educated
for a teacher, that she may have the means of supporting herself
genteelly when she grows up. It will take a good deal of money, but
I will not begrudge it to poor Dick's child. He was a good-hearted,
sunny-tempered lad. I only hope his child may be like him."
So she went on thinking of the child as of a very small girl indeed.
Her brother-in-law's letter, with its hurried mention of "my little
girl," "my little Leo," had entirely misled her. The poor dying man
had had no intention of deceiving his sister-in-law. To him his darling
daughter, although grown to woman's stature, was always "my little
girl," and it never occurred to him, when on his dying bed he penned
that hurried letter, to explain to Mrs. West that his orphan child was
a beautiful young girl of eighteen, already fairly educated, and with a
spirit quite brave enough to face the world alone, if need be.
So she went on thinking of Leonora West as a little girl who would be a
great deal of trouble to her, and on whom she would have to spend the
savings of long years; and, although she felt that she had a formidable
task before her in the rearing of this orphan girl, she did not shrink
from the undertaking, but made up her mind to go forward bravely in the
fulfillment of the precious charge left to her by the dead.
So the day drew near for Leonora's arrival, and the great house was now
filled with guests--twenty in all--whom Lady Lancaster had bidden to
the feast, prepared in honor of her nephew, the Lord of Lancaster.
So the day was come at last, and Lady Lancaster in the drawing-room
awaited her nephew, while the housekeeper in the kitchen awaited her
niece.
It was one of the most beautiful of June days. The air was sweet and
warm, the sky was clear and blue, all nature seemed to smile on the
home-coming of the master.
Mrs. West, having given her orders in the kitchen, repaired to her own
special sitting-room, a small apartment on the second floor, with a
sunny window looking out upon the rear grounds of the house. She had
put a bouquet of roses in a vase on the mantel, and some small pots of
simple, sweet-smelling flowers on the window-sill, to brighten up the
place for the child's eyes.
"It will look so cheerful. Children always love flowers," she said.
She pulled forward a pretty little child's rocking-chair that she had
brought down from the immense garret. She arranged a pretty little
red-and-white tidy over the back.
"In a little while they will be here, for John went to meet them with
the carriage a good while ago," she said to herself. "Dear me, how
nervous I am getting over that child's coming."
And she settled her lace cap again and looked into the small mirror
against the wall, wondering how Dick's child would like her aunt's
looks.
"Dear me, Mrs. West, I did not think you were so vain," said a laughing
masculine voice.
She turned around quickly.
"Oh, my lord, so you're come home again!" she cried; "and as full of
your mischief as ever. Welcome, welcome!"
"Yes, I am home again, Mrs. West, and here is what I have brought you,"
he said, stepping back that she might see the girl who had followed him
into the room--the graceful figure in deep black, that came up to her
with both hands outstretched, and said, demurely:
"How do you do, Aunt West?"
For a minute Mrs. West did not touch the pretty white hands held out
to her, she was so amazed and surprised. She managed to stammer out
faintly:
"Are you Leonora West? I--I was expecting to see a very young child."
The bright face dimpled charmingly.
"That was a mistake," she said. "I hope you will not be vexed because I
am so large!"