t and of some other
property on the Goodacre side which she only liferented, Lady Myrtle was
a rich old woman. And all she had to leave, short of legacies to certain
hospitals and other benevolent institutions which she had interested
herself in, all was to be Jacinth's. The only landed property was Robin
Redbreast and the small farm belonging to it, but in money there would
be more than enough to keep up three or four places of its size.

Mrs Mildmay's heart sank, as she listened, but so far neither she nor
her husband had interrupted the speaker by word or movement. And she,
gaining confidence by their silence, at last came to the final
announcement.

'So you see, my dear friends, that looking upon Jacinth as I do, it is
only consistent--consistent, and I may say _necessary_--that you consent
to my at once arranging for a proper allowance, whatever you like to
call it, being arranged for her. And this--of course you will agree with
me, that this must be an amount sufficient not only for a thoroughly
good education, but for her to be surrounded by everything right and
fitting for the position she will be called upon to occupy, perhaps not
so very long hence, for I am an old woman. And I do not want to teach or
induce any selfishness or self-assertion; I have the very greatest
respect for parental authority; I will tell her nothing, or only what
you approve of her knowing. But you see how it affects the present
position of things, and your present decision, my dear Colonel Mildmay.'

Colonel Mildmay moved uneasily in his chair, but still he did not speak.

'You must see,' Lady Myrtle proceeded, 'that it would be entirely
inconsistent in these circumstances for you to bury yourself and Eugenia
and the children in a dreadful place like Barmettle. You will, I feel
satisfied, agree that in anticipating the future a little, as it were,
and allowing me at once to--to place a certain income at your
disposal--an income which I am sure Jacinth will continue when things
are in her own hands--you are only acting reasonably and--justly, I may
say, as well as in a manner really to earn my gratitude.'

The old lady's voice trembled ominously: this strange continued silence
was beginning to rouse some apprehension. As she uttered the last
word--'gratitude'--Mrs Mildmay, hitherto entirely quiescent till her
husband thought well to speak, could no longer restrain herself. She
leant forward and caught Lady Myrtle's hand in hers.

'