She sat upon the edge of a chair, and leaned her arms on a corner of the writing-table; and she looked into the elder woman's face with wistful, longing, pleading eyes. Mrs. Hardy had faint, instinctive premonitions. "Well, my dear," she replied a little brusquely, "I shall be glad to advise you to the best of my power. But you are your own mistress now, you know." Then after a little pause, she said anxiously, "What is it you are going to do?" "Auntie," faltered Rachel, "auntie--you know all about Mr. Dalrymple?" "_Rachel_--my _dear_--you _don't_ mean to say--! And your poor husband not six months in his grave!" "Not yet," said Rachel, suddenly becoming composed and collected. "Though I do not believe that I _ought_ to put it off. But presently, auntie--as soon as you would think it right--I want to marry Mr. Dalrymple. And in the meantime he is waiting for me to send him a message--he has asked me to write--we want to have the comfort of some sort of recognised engagement, if it is ever so quiet----" "Oh, Rachel, don't ask me to have anything to do with such a thing! Only think what poor Graham would say if he could know! And he left little Alfy in your hands--and he left all that money to you--little thinking what you would do with it!" "He knew--he knew," said Rachel. "_He_ has already sanctioned it. Dear, good husband! He left me the money without any conditions if I married again, and he _knew_ I should do this. It was understood between us when he died. Aunt Elizabeth, I think he wished to make reparation to Roden and me. Don't you wish it, too? Only think, it is six years--six whole years--that poor Roden has been lonely in Queensland, without any brightness or comfort in his life; and, though he has loved me just the same, he has never attempted to do--what you would not have wished him to do--all that time. It is six years this very week, Aunt Elizabeth, since he sent Mr. Gordon down to you." "And if he had come himself," said Mrs. Hardy, passionately, beginning to break down and cry, "I should not have let him see you--I would not have allowed you to have him. Oh, child, child! when you have grown-up daughters to look after and manage for, you will understand that I tried to do my best for you--you will think less hardly of me then." Rachel jumped up from her chair, and kneeling down flung her warm young arms about the sobbing woman. "My own auntie," she exclaimed fondly, "if I could think hardly of you I should be ashamed to live. I _know_ you tried to do your best for me--of course I know it! It is always a mistake to deceive people, but _I_ deceived _you_, too, not telling you all I had done. I know you were right to keep me away from him knowing only what you knew. If he _had_ been wicked, as you thought, and I had had it all my own way, what would have become of me? But now--now that you know he is good----"