had been her home for ten of the most
home-forming years of her life, and felt familiar and kindly; it was
very quiet, and it was an unspeakable comfort to be with one who talked
freely of her father with blind partiality and love, and did not
oppress her with implied compassion for her return to him.

Yet Mary could not help now and then being sensible that good Aunt
Melicent was not the fountain of wisdom which she used to esteem her.
Now and then a dictum would sound narrow and questionable, objections
to books seemed mistaken, judgments of people hard, and without
sufficient foundation; and when Mary tried to argue, she found herself
decidedly set down, with as much confident superiority as if she had
been still sixteen years old. Six years spent in going to the other
side of the world, and in seeing so many varieties of people, did not
seem to Aunt Melicent to have conferred half so much experience as
sleeping every night in Bryanston Square, daily reading the Morning
Post, and holding intercourse with a London world of a dozen old
ladies, three curates, and a doctor.

The worst of it was, that a hurt and angry tenderness was always
excited in Mary's mind by the manner of any reference to Northwold or
Ormersfield. It seemed to be fixed, beyond a doubt, that everything
there must have been wrong and fashionable; and even poor dear Aunt
Kitty was only spoken of with a charitable hope that affliction had
taught her to see the error of her days of worldly display.

It was allowed that there was nothing objectionable in Clara Frost, who
was subdued by the sight of Mary's deep mourning, and in silent formal
company could be grave and formal too. But there was a severe shock in
a call from Lady Conway and Isabel; and on their departure Mary was
cross-examined, in the hope that they had been outrageously gay at
Northwold, and for want of any such depositions, was regaled with
histories of poor Lady Fitzjocelyn's vanities, which had not lost by
their transmission through twenty-two years and twice as many mouths.

Still more unpleasant was the result of a visit from the Earl and his
son to appoint the day of starting for Liverpool. Louis was in no mood
to startle any one; he was very sad at heart, and only anxious to be
inoffensive; but his air was quite enough to give umbrage, and cause
the instant remark, 'I never saw such a puppy!'

Nothing but such angry incoherency occurred to Mary, that she forcibly
held her