other day. I cannot but think that
your poor father must have engaged in some disastrous speculation."

Mr. Heron groaned again, and shook his head.

"The prevailing vice of this most wicked of ages," he said. "The love
of money, the gambling on the race-course and the Stock Exchange, are
the root of all evil."

Ida seemed not to hear him, and Mr. Wordley ignored the comment.

"It now remains for you, my dear child, to decide what to do. I do not
think you could possibly live on here; you have not the means to do so,
though you should be as economical as you have been in the past; the
house must pass away from you in six months' time or little more, and
there would be nothing gained by your lingering hopelessly here for
that period."

"I must go, then," said Ida, as if there were a stab in every word.

Mr. Wordley bent his head, and laid his hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, I fear you must go," he assented. "But, thank God, you are not
without friends, many friends. Lord Bannerdale charges me to tell you
what his good wife has already written you--that a home awaits you at
the Court, where you will be received gladly and lovingly; and I am
quite sure that the door of every house in the dale is wide open for
you."

Ida shrank in her chair. Clothe the offer as kindly as he might, it
spelt Charity, not cold charity, but charity still: and what Heron had
ever tamely accepted charity from mere friends and strangers? Mr.
Wordley saw the shrinking, the little shudder, and understood.

"I understand, my dear!" he said, in a low voice. "But there is another
offer, another home which you can accept without humiliation or
compunction. Your cousin, Mr. John Heron here, will, I am sure, be only
too glad, too delighted to--to--"

He waited and glanced at Mr. Heron impatiently, and at last that
gentleman rose, but not too eagerly, to the occasion.

"I need scarcely say," he said, slowly and solemnly, "that I should not
approve of my cousin's accepting these offers of charity, which, though
no doubt kindly meant, appear to me somewhat--er--obtrusive. I am not a
wealthy man; my simple home cannot compare in size and grandeur with
Heron Hall and the estate which my late unfortunate cousin appears to
have squandered, but such as it is, Ida will be welcome in it. I am not
one to turn a deaf ear to the cry of the orphan and fatherless."

Mr. Wordley frowned and reddened, and cut in before Mr. John Heron
could finish his sentence