"It may be worth more still and there is a good deal of gold," the
Professor said, "and their coins would be worth more now. You will be
quite a little heiress some day, dear child."
"I do not care the least about money, Cheiron," she said, "but I shall
be so glad for the aunts."
And when eventually the old ladies received the news of their fortune
there was much rejoicing, and by following Cheiron's advice they were
not defrauded and might look forward to a most comfortable end to their
lives. Miss Roberta even dreamed of a villa at the seaside and a visit
to London Town!
But meanwhile the Professor and Halcyone went back to London and on the
Saturday left for Dieppe.
London, perhaps from her numbed state of misery, had said nothing to
Halcyone. It remained in her memory as a nightmare, the scene of the
confirmation of her winter of the soul. Its inhabitants were ghosts, the
young men--jolly, hearty, young fellows from the Stock Exchange, and
rising Radical politicians whom she had met--went from her record of
things as so many shadows.
The vast buildings seemed as prisons, the rush and flurry as worrying
storms, and even the parks as only feeble reminders of her dear La
Sarthe Chase.
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