Then, with that little impetuous way of hers, she drew her hand across her eyes, and with a smile, exclaimed, "Say what you like, I will not go back from my resolution in one thing. No person but my niece and adopted child, Mildred Corsor, shall ever own Aunt Milly's diamonds." My mother was contented with the answer; and having been allowed to speak so freely to her sister about a subject which she was at first half afraid to mention, she would not attempt to combat this last sentence. This conversation took place in my aunt's room, at the close of that happy Christmas Day, when the guests had departed and the sisters were lingering over the fire, as if unwilling to say the final good-night. During the rest of the time that my father and mother stayed at Denesfield, no further mention was made of Edmund Dene's widow and children. CHAPTER VI AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR IT was a happy season to all of us. At the end of three weeks my parents returned home; a fortnight later the girls followed, laden with gifts, and full of delightful memories of their stay under my aunt's roof. They had the promise, too, that when their holidays should come round again, they might reckon on spending them—if not at Denesfield, in some place of summer resort with Aunt Milly and me. A few more weeks passed, and for the first time since I came to live with her, my aunt had some secret from me. She wrote letters and received answers, without telling me a word about the matter. In all else she was, if possible, more tender and kind than ever; so I comforted myself with the thought that she was not displeased, and that she had a perfect right to use her own judgment about trusting a girl like me. One morning, about a week before Easter, I was sitting preparing an Italian lesson to read with my aunt, who knew the language well, when a gentleman was shown into the room. As raised my head I could not help thinking I had seen him before; but I could neither remember when or where. He had scarcely time to speak, when the servant came back, and said: "Please to step into the library, sir. Mrs. Dene will be glad to see you there." It was no uncommon thing for my aunt to receive such visits. Many a young man, whose path in life was made smoother through her kind help or effort, came with a full heart to thank her. But nearly an hour passed, and still the visitor was in the library with my aunt. My task was done, and I had laid my books down, and now stood looking out of the window at the trees just beginning to break out into bud, and thinking to myself how lovely the place would be in the green glory of spring. All at once came again the memory of that visitor's face, and a new idea flashed across my mind. I ran out of the room and into the picture gallery, where hung a very fine full-length portrait of Aunt Milly's husband, taken when he was just of age.