"Sit down, Hugo," she said. "I am sorry to have brought you away from your friends."

"Oh, I was glad to come," said Hugo, confusedly. "I was not with friends; I was in town. It was late for town, but I--I had business."

"This house is no longer a cheerful one," continued Mrs. Luttrell, in a cold, monotonous voice. "There are no attractions for young men now. It has been a house of mourning. I could not expect you to visit me."

"Indeed, Aunt Margaret, I would have come if I had known that you wanted me," said Hugo, wondering whether his tardiness would entail the loss of Mrs. Luttrell's money.

He recovered his self-possession and his fluency at this thought; if danger were near, it behoved him to be on the alert.

"I have wanted you," said Mrs. Luttrell. "But I could wait. I knew that you would come in time. Now, listen to what I have to say."

Hugo held his breath. What could she say that needed all this preamble?

"Hugo Luttrell," his aunt began, very deliberately, "you are a poor man and an extravagant one."

Hugo smiled, and bowed his head.

"But you are only extravagant. You are not vicious. You have never done a dishonourable thing--one for which you need blush or fear to meet the eye of an honest man? Answer me that, Hugo. I may know what you will say, but I want to hear it from your own lips."

Hugo did not flinch. His face assumed the boyish innocence of expression which had often stood him in good stead. His great, dark eyes looked boldly into hers.

"That is all true, Aunt Margaret. I may have done foolish things, but nothing worse. I have been extravagant, as you say, but I have not been dishonourable."

He could not have dared to say so much if Richard or Brian had been alive to contradict him; but they were safely out of the way and he could say what he chose.

"Then I can trust you, Hugo."

"I will try to be worthy of your trust, Aunt Margaret."

He bent down to kiss her hand in his graceful, foreign fashion; but she drew it somewhat hastily away.

"No. None of your Sicilian ways for me, Hugo. That foreign drop in your blood is just what I hate. But you're the only Luttrell left; and I hope I know my duty. I want to have a talk with you about the house, and the property, and so on."

"I shall be glad if I can do anything to help you," said Hugo, smoothly.

His cheek was beginning to flush; he wished that his aunt would come to the point. Suspense was very trying! But Mrs. Luttrell seemed to be in no hurry.

"You know, perhaps," she said, "that I am a tolerably rich woman still.

The land, the farms, and the moors, and all that part of the property passed to Miss Murray upon my sons' deaths; but this house and the grounds (though not the loch nor the woods) are still mine, and I have a fair income with which to keep them up. I should like to know that one of my husband's name was to come after me. I should like to know that there would be Luttrells of Netherglen for many years to come."

She paused a few minutes, but Hugo made no reply.

"I have a proposition to make to you," she went on presently. "I don't make it without conditions. You shall hear what they are by-and-bye. I should like to make you my heir. I can leave my money and my house to anyone I choose. I have about fifteen-hundred a-year, and then there's the house and the garden. Should you think it worth having?"

"I think," said Hugo, with a wily avoidance of any direct answer, "that it is very painful to hear you talk of leaving your property to anyone."

"That is mere sentimental nonsense," replied his aunt, with a perceptible increase in the coldness of her manner. "The question is, will you agree to the conditions on which I leave my money to you?"

"I will do anything in my power," murmured Hugo.

"I want you, then, to arrange to spend at least half the year with me here. You can leave the army; I do not think that it is a profession that suits you. Live here, and fill the place of a son to me. I have no sons left. Be as like one of them as it is in your power to be."

In spite of himself Hugo's face fell. Leave the army, leave England, bury himself for half the year with an old woman in a secluded spot, which, although beautiful in summer and autumn, was unspeakably dreary in winter? She had not required so much of Richard or Brian; why should she ask for such a sacrifice from him?

Mrs. Luttrell watched his face, and read pretty clearly the meaning of the various expressions which chased each other across it.

"It seems a hard thing to you at first, no doubt," she said, composedly.

"But you would find interests and amusements in course of time. You would have six months of the year in which to go abroad, or to divert yourself in London. You should have a sufficient income. And my other condition is that you marry as soon as you can find a suitable wife."

"Marry?" said Hugo, in dismay. "I never thought of marriage!"

"You will think of it some time, I presume. An early marriage is good for young men. I should like to see you married, and have your children growing up about me."

"Perhaps you have thought of a suitable lady?" said Hugo, with a half-sneer. The prospect that had seemed so desirable at first was now very much lowered in his estimation, and he did not disguise the sullen anger that he felt. But he hardly expected Mrs. Luttrell's answer.

"Yes, I have."

"Indeed! Who is it?"

"Miss Murray. Elizabeth Murray, to whom your cousins' estates have gone."

"What sort of a person is she?"

"Young, beautiful, rich. A little older than yourself, but not much. You would make a fine couple, Hugo. She came to see me the other day, and you would have thought she was a princess."

"I should like to see her," said Hugo, thoughtfully.

"Well, you must just go and call. And then you can think the matter over and let me know. I'm in no hurry for a decision."

"You are very good, Aunt Margaret."

"No. I am only endeavouring to be just. I should like to see you prosperous and happy. And, while you are here, you will oblige me by considering yourself the master of the house, Hugo. Give your own orders, and invite your own friends."

Hugo murmured some slight objection.

"It will not affect my comfort in the least. I kept some of the horses, and one or two vehicles that I thought you would like. Use them all. You will not expect to see very much of me; I seldom come downstairs, so the house will be free for you and your friends. When you have decided what you mean to do, let me know."

Hugo thanked her and retired. He did not see her again until the following evening, when she met him with a question.

"Have you seen Miss Murray yet?"

"Yes," said Hugo, lowering his eyes.

"And have you come to any decision?"

"Yes."

"I should like to know what it is," said Mrs. Luttrell.

Her hands, which were crossed before her on her knee, trembled a little as she said the words.