Within a few days she received invitations from the Bannerdales and
Vaynes and the other county families, who were evidently possessed by
the kind determination that she should become one of them. The dinner
at Bannerdale Grange was quite _en famille_; she was made a great deal
of; and if she had given them the least encouragement they would
actually have petted her; but though Ida had lost something of her old
pride and _hauteur_, caused by her isolation, she was still somewhat
reserved, and, grateful as she was for their overtures of affection,
she could not respond as fully as she would have liked. It was the same
with the Vaynes and Avorys; they were all more than kind to her, and
she longed to receive their attention with open arms; but she could
not: the fact was, her wounded heart was so tender that it shrank even
from the gentlest touch.
"The girl is all right," remarked Lord Bannerdale. "She has been in
great trouble and it has hurt her very badly; and though she seems
rather cold and reserved, she is more sensitive than most women: you
must give her time."
Ida had resolved that though she could not altogether forget the great
sorrow of her life, she would not brood over it. She knew that for her
complaint there was nothing worse than idleness; and she sought
employment for her mind and body with an eagerness that sometimes
became almost feverish. When she was not visiting or receiving visits
from, what might be called her new, friends, she was busy about the
farm and the estate, and took long rides on Rupert accompanied as of
old by the dogs. Very soon, too, Mr. Hartley began at the restoration;
and Ida was deeply interested in the progress of the work. Then, again,
the hunting season commenced, and to the delight of Sir Robert Vayne,
the master, she appeared at the first meet: and, is it necessary to
say? was in at the death. She enjoyed that first run more than she had
enjoyed anything since the fatal morning she had lost both sweetheart
and father; and she was very nearly happy as she rode home with a
crushed hat and a habit splashed with mud.
A week or two afterwards, Lord Bannerdale gave a hunt breakfast, and
made a point of her being present; and she yielded though she would
have preferred to have joined the meet at the coverts. As she rode up,
Lord Bannerdale came down the steps to meet her; and by his side was a
tall, good-looking young fellow whom Ida rightly guessed, by his
likeness to his father, to be Lord Bannerdale's son. He had returned
from his travels on the preceding night, was in perfect health and
spirits, much tanned by the sun and rain, and seemed to possess his
full share of the amiability of his amiable family. He stood,
bare-headed, at Rupert's head and took Ida's hand to help her to
dismount, and not only walked with her to the house, but contrived to
sit beside her at the breakfast-table. His people had been talking to
him of Ida, he was quite prepared to be impressed, and that he was so
was evident before the meal had concluded. His mother paid particular
attention to Ida, and Lord Bannerdale regarded the young pair
approvingly.