her.

The aunts lamented, but they could seldom win their darling to them
for more than a few weeks at a time, even after their nephew Maurice
had--as they considered--thrown himself away on a little lively lady
of Irish parentage, no equal in birth or fortune, in their opinion,
for the grandson of Lord Belraven.

They had been very friendly to the young wife, but their hopes had
all the more been fixed on Albinia; and even Winifred could afford
them some generous pity in the engagement of their favourite niece to
a retired East India Company's servant--a widower with three
children.




CHAPTER II.



The equinoctial sun had long set, and the blue haze of March east
wind had deepened into twilight and darkness when Albinia Kendal
found herself driving down the steep hilly street of Bayford. The
town was not large nor modern enough for gas, and the dark street was
only lighted here and there by a shop of more pretension; the plate-glass
of the enterprising draper, with the light veiled by shawls and
ribbons, the 'purple jars,' green, ruby, and crimson of the chemist;
and the modest ray of the grocer, revealing busy heads driving
Saturday-night bargains.