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had had one season in London, and it was so delightful. Dear Drury Lane! she should never forget-never; and Lady Lampeter's routs; and—but you are not listening, Prissy."

"Yes, sister, I am: I am only wondering how you bore up under the infliction."

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Admirably, my dear. I did not make a single wry face. was only biding my time."

I

"Yes, sister-I mean, when and how did that time come, Melly?"

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Well, I let the clack run down, only putting in 'Yes' and 'No' at the proper places; and then, when the young lady stopped, for want either of breath or of material to expend it upon, I began. Shall I tell you what I said, Prissy?"

"I should like to hear it, my dear."

"I had not walked all the way from the Priory on a mere complimentary visit that was the first thing I said to any purpose, Prissy; but that I had a few words to say on a subject which affected Clara's happiness, if she would be kind enough to listen to me.

"It is not about Henry Rivers, is it?' she said, in a kind of fright; because, if it is, I cannot hear what you have to say. Papa said that you had promised not to mention his name, Miss Fleming.'

"My business has no reference to my nephew, Miss Gilbert,' I said.

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"Oh, if it is business of any kind, hadn't you better mention it to my papa?' said the young lady, with a sort of theatrical start. I am such a dunce, you know, really,' she went on, that the very thought of business makes me stupid.' Prissy," said Melly, breaking off her narrative here, “I cannot imagine what Harry could ever have seen in that affected girl to admire and love."

"My dear," responded Prissy, demurely, "it is a most im

possible thing, I suppose, to account either for diversities of taste or freaks of fancy."

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"I suppose so, too," said Melly, reflectively. "At any rate, we are not called on to account for them, and I shall not make the attempt; and so I will go on with my story. I told Clara that my business concerned herself; and, without waiting for any further objection, I put the question to her-I am afraid I was rather abrupt, Prissy, but it was best to go straight to the mark—'I hear you are about to be married. Is it true, Miss Gilbert?'

"My dear," continued Melly, "you should have seen the girl's great brown eyes then; how they opened wider than ever I had seen mortal eyes open, and shot out defiance, while her whole countenance was distorted into a grimace which, if poor Harry could have seen, would have cured him of his love fit for a time, I should think. In a moment, however, the grimace had disappeared, and the eyelids were cast down in mock maiden modesty.

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Prissy," continued Melly, "I never knew the use of a lap-dog before; and that's something else I have learned in my morning's visit. Oh, my dear," she went on, grimly smiling, "we must go out into the world again. You have no idea what we lose by shutting ourselves up here."

"You don't mean what you say, sister, I know," said meek Prissy; "do you, now?"

"We'll keep a lap-dog, Prissy," said Miss Fleming, bitterly; "and then, when we are asked an inconvenient question, we can whisper it in his ear, and tell him to answer it for us."

"That is what Miss Gilbert did, I suppose, sister? and you

“I said, 'It is true, I see; and you are to be mistress of Hurlock Chase, and the wife of Jason Brooke.'

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"And the young person, did she make any answer to that; or

did that go into her lap-dog's ears also?" Prissy asked, with a smile.

"She made answer then, my dear. I do not remember exactly what, but it was to the effect that it was not quite settled yet; but she supposed it would be. Why did I put such questions? she asked, with a sort of frightened look."

"And you told her why?"

"I told Clara Gilbert then, that I wished to save her from a great sorrow; that I felt sure she was deceived in the man whom she was about to call 'husband;' that he had been a very bad man, as I could prove; and that the very circumstance of his seeking to be married, and for the second time, proved to my mind that he was only confirmed in his wickedness."

"You really told the poor girl so? Well, and what did she say?"

"She broke out into a great torrent of words, my dear, as I expected she would. She thought it was too bad for people to be set against Mr. Brooke in such a way. She knew as well as I did that her intended husband was a widower, and was a great many years older than herself; and if she chose to marry him, why should anybody else object? Her papa and mamma didn't: why should I? And why did I want to make her unhappy by saying such shocking things?

"I told her, Prissy-as soon as I could get in another word— that I was sorry to make any person, especially any young person of our sex, unhappy; but if a little temporary unhappiness could be made to prevent a whole lifetime of misery and selfreproach, I was justified in inflicting it. I told her, my dear, it was not the man's being a widower, and so much older than herself, which gave me any concern on her account, but my knowledge of some part of his past history.

"And what did I know of his past history? Miss Gilbert wished to know. She was quite a little fury for a minute or two.

She knew what people said of Mr. Brooke; that he had been a gambler, and—and other things; but it was all their wickedness. She supposed I should be saying next that he had not come fairly by his estate. But he had; her papa knew that he had, and he wasn't to be deceived. She supposed I was jealous of her going to be mistress at The Hurlocks,' after all; but she didn't care for that only it was very wicked of me to try to set her against Mr. Brooke, it was; and the poor girl began to cry and sob."

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"Poor young thing!" said Prissy, with a sigh.

"I pitied her too, sister," said Melly; "and I could have found it in my heart to leave her then, with my story untold. But I had said either too much or too little, and I could not let the girl run upon her miserable fate blindfold. So I soothed her, and told her she was mistaken in thinking that I disputed Mr. Brooke's right to his estate. And as to my being envious of her prospects, such as they were, I had known so much of the powerlessness of wealth to give happiness, that there was no room for envy in my heart; and so, having brought the young lady into a more reasonable and composed state of mind, I entreated her to hear patiently the story I had to tell."

CHAPTER XXXI.

MARRIED.

MISS FLEMING's benevolent effort was a failure. To be sure, Clara reported the conversation to her mother; and her mother reported it to her husband; and Mr. Roger Gilbert rode over to "The Hurlocks," and reported it to his future son-in-law. And there was a great deal of indignation wasted on Melly for having

slandered that gentleman; and a great deal of blustering as to what that gentleman would have done if the slanderer had not been a lady; and a great deal of magnanimity professed on the part of that gentleman towards his cruel slanderer, who must have been strangely misinformed, and was altogether labouring under a huge mistake which it was not the slandered individual's province to explain. And the end of it all was, that a few days later a curtly polite note reached the Priory, to the effect that due investigation of the charges Miss Fleming had brought against Mr. Brooke had been made by Mr. Gilbert, who had the pleasure of stating that he was perfectly satisfied with the explanation he had received, and that the relations of Mr. Brooke with the writer's family remained uninterrupted.

Melly folded the note and put it in her desk.

So far from being interrupted and impeded, those relations seemed to be strengthened and advanced by Melly's failure. It was no longer whispered as a secret, but proclaimed openly, that a match was on the tapis (we believe this is the right word in the right place) between the great houses of "The Hurlocks" and Fairbourne Court. As soon as the weather broke, and the rough country roads were passable by anything on wheels, the lumbering, leather-headed, nondescript convenience which Mrs. Gilbert called her carriage was set in motion by a pair of strong, big-boned beasts of horses, and conveyed that lady and her daughter, twice a week or oftener, to the town in which her husband's name was a tower of strength, and where they spent hour after hour in visiting shop after shop, making sundry purchases.

On the other hand, it was known that extensive alterations were being carried forward with great energy and no stint of expense at "The Hurlocks." The whole of the ancient mansion was undergoing repair. Modern windows, in some parts of the building, replaced the old latticed casements; drawing-rooms

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