I hardly know what we talked about, but we were all very happy.  Gladys, as usual, was rather quiet, but I noticed that she spoke freely to her brother, without any constraint of manner, and that he seemed pleased and interested in all she said; and Lady Betty chatted as merrily as possible.

When tea was over we all strolled about the garden, down the long asphalt walk that skirted the meadow, where a little brown cow was feeding, down to the gardener’s cottage and the kitchen-garden, and to the poultry-yard, where Lady Betty reigned supreme.  Then we sat down on the terrace by the conservatory, and Mr. Hamilton threw himself down on the grass and played with Nap, as he talked to us.

I could see Leah sewing at her mistress’s window, but the sight did not disturb me in the least.  Yes, I must be fey, I thought.  I could find no reason for the sudden feeling of contentment and well-being that possessed me; in all my life I had never felt happier than I did that evening; and yet I was more silent than usual.  Mr. Hamilton talked more to his sisters than to me, but his manner was strangely gentle when he addressed me.  I was conscious all that evening that he was watching me, and that my reserve did not displease him.  Once, when he had been called away on business, and Lady Betty had tripped after him, Gladys said, with a half-sigh,—­

’How young and well Giles looks to-day!  He seems so much happier.  I wish we could always be like this.  I am sure if it were not for Etta we should understand each other better.’

I assented to this, and Gladys went on: 

‘I wonder if you have ever heard Mrs. Carrick’s name, Ursula?’

What a strange question!  I flushed a little as I told her that her old friend Mrs. Maberley had put me in possession of all the family secrets.  ‘Quite against my will, I assure you,’ I added; for I always had a lurking consciousness that I had no right to know Mr. Hamilton’s affairs.

’Well, it does not matter.  I daresay Giles will tell you all about it himself some day.  You and he seem great friends, Ursula; and indeed—­indeed I am glad to know it.  Poor Giles!  Why should you not be kind to him?’

What in the world could Gladys mean?

‘I was only a child,’ she went on; ’but of course I remember Ella.  She was very beautiful and fascinating, and she bewitched us all.  She had such lovely eyes, and such a sweet laugh; and she was so full of fun, and so high-spirited and charming altogether.  Giles was very different in those days; but he reminds me of his old self this evening.’

I made no answer.  I seemed to have no words ready, and I was glad when Gladys rather abruptly changed the subject.  Leah was crossing the field towards the cottage with a basket of eggs on her arm.  As we looked after her, Gladys said quickly—­

’Your talk last night seems like a dream.  This morning I asked myself, could it be true—­really true—­that you saw Eric?  I have hardly slept, Ursula.  Indeed, I do not mean to be impatient; but how am I to bear this restlessness?’