"Be careful, my dear, if Leo is like that. Being left rich and independent while yet so young, may have turned her head a little. Did she--ahem! talk about her affairs at all?" "Affairs?" ("Now, what the deuce does she mean by 'affairs'?" thought he.) "Did she speak of what she meant to do? Is she thinking of remaining in these parts? Or has she any other plans?" "If she has, she didn't tell them me." Val considered and shook his head. "No, I don't believe she said a word of the kind. Besides what plans could she have, poor little----" "Not 'poor'". Mrs. Purcell smiled significantly. "You don't seem to understand, my dear. Leonore Stubbs is a very rich widow, and will be immensely sought after. It would be a great pity if she could not settle in the neighbourhood, and--and join the hunt, as you said yourself." "Aye, to be sure. I forgot about that; but you told me not to spring it upon her too soon." "True. But you might have discovered if she was--however, apparently she has no immediate intention of flying away." Reassured on the point, Mrs. Purcell let well alone. She had no conception that anything could be hid from her, and thought she divined that while all had gone well, even beyond her hopes so far, the two whom she would fain have seen made one, had restricted their _tete-a-tete_ to the discussion of conventional and superficial topics. Val had even called Leonore "pompous". That meant the young lady was aware of her own value, and if so----? There remained however this comfort; in her present situation the youthful widow could not go into society, and Val, being first in the field, might, to borrow his own phraseology, catch the hare before the other hounds were on the scent. Val on his part chuckled likewise. Secretive as the grave could Val be when he chose; and one thing was clear to him: Leonore was trying to play the part required of her by her family and the world, and he alone knew that it was a part. He would not betray her. Not all his grandmother's wiles should draw from him a picture of that confiding little face--sorrowful enough at times certainly, and yet not sorrowful in the approved fashion, not hopeless, not utterly cast down. "Just looking as if she needed some one to be kind to her," ruminated he; "and when she laughed--" he paused and wagged his head, "Lord, it was a good thing nobody but me heard Leo laugh!" CHAPTER VI. A REVELATION. "I think--" said Miss Boldero one day about a fortnight after this--"it appears to me that Leonore might now be permitted to see the rector?"--and she looked round to take the opinion of her sisters. Their father was not present.