Maitland's sitting-room. It had been
scarcely used since, and the lady's things--her favourite chair and her
little work-table and her big basket--were still in their places as she
had left them, waiting, Martha used to say, like the stores of linen,
till the captain brought home his bride. It was Martha who had thought
that the big room, which was so full of memories of that merry
Christmas party, would seem cold and dreary, and had carried the lamp
into the little parlour. And there round the fire they sat together,
Betty at Mr. Crayshaw's feet, with his hand caressing her bright hair,
and Angel on her low chair beside them, and the captain opposite, with
his eyes shaded from the light. Only this evening he had been talking
quite hopefully about the time when he would be fit for work again.
And they talked about Godfrey too, Angel being the one to begin, and
for once it was she who led the talk, and dwelt quite quietly and
naturally on old days--on Godfrey's first coming home, and the day when
he had first heard Kiah's stories and settled to be a useful sailor.
And she spoke freely as she had never done before of hers and Betty's
fears and misgivings about his education.

'Don't you remember that first day, Betty, how you said you could never
be a maiden aunt? And afterwards, when we knew he was set on being a
great sailor, I was more afraid still, for I couldn't think how I was
ever to teach him.'

'And little enough help from those who should have been the first to
help you,' sighed Mr. Crayshaw.

'Oh no, no--I didn't mean that. Only, you see, we had more to do with
him than any one. But Martha was so good, she told us not to worry too
much, only to do our best and trust about him. Do you know, I think if
I had known then that he would die like this, such a brave, good little
officer, I should have felt quite glad and thankful.'

'A gentleman wants to see Miss Wyndham,' said Patty at the door.

'Miss Wyndham cannot see any one to-night,' said Mr. Crayshaw,
impatiently.

'Oh yes, I can,' said Angel rising, 'only I don't know who it can be.
Where is he, Patty?'

'I showed him into the dining-room, Miss Angelica; he came on here from
the cottage, he says.'

Angel went out of the room and across the hall to the dining-room; the
front door was open, and across the still meadows the church bells were
ringing, for the news of a victory in the Peninsula had reached the
village that evening. Angel wondered