Glancing involuntarily at Mrs.Lashmar, she saw the gloom of resentment and hostility hover upon that lady's countenance, and this proved decisive.
"I'll have some tea, please," cried the young man, cheerfully, as Constance with some abruptness resumed her seat.

"How is your father, Miss Connie?
Well?
That's right.

And Mrs.Bride ?" "My mother is dead," replied the girl, quite simply, looking away.
A soft murmur of pain escaped Dyce's lips; he leaned forward, uttered gently a "Pray forgive me!" and was silent.

The vicar interposed with a harmless remark about the flight of years..