'Shame! shame! What made her do this cruel thing? A year! wait for a
year!'

'She brought forward many reasons, Henry, but upon two of them she
was constantly dwelling.'

'And what were these?'

'Well, the news of the death of your brother Frank of course reached
us in Shire-Carnarvon, and how well I remember hearing my aunt say,
"Henry Aylwin will be one of the wealthiest landowners in England."
And I remember how my heart sank at her words, for I was always
thinking of the dear little lame boy with the language of suffering
in his eyes and the deep music of sorrow in his voice.'

'Your heart sank, Winnie, and why?'

'I felt as if a breath of icy air had blown between us, dividing us
for ever. And then my aunt began to talk about you and your future.'

After some trouble I persuaded Winnie to tell me what was the homily
that this aunt of hers preached _à propos_ of Frank's death. And as
she talked I could not help observing what, as a child, I had only
observed in a dim, semi-conscious way--a strange kind of double
personality in Winnie. At one moment she seemed to me nothing but the
dancing fairy of the sands, objective and unconscious as a young
animal playing to itself, at another she seemed the mouthpiece of the
narrow world-wisdom of this Welsh aunt. No sooner had she spoken of
herself as a friendless, homeless girl, than her brow began to shine