a's growing delight in it (she would now use Irish words, vulgar
words, words expressive of physical facts; airing her natural wit in
Irish as if she had found a new weapon), became a bitter strain on
Arabella's mind, and she was compelled to make Cornelia take her share of
the burden. "But I cannot conceal--I cannot feign," said Cornelia.
Arabella looked at her, whom she knew to be feigning, thinking, "Must I
lose my high esteem of both my sisters?" Action alone saved her from
denuding herself of this garment."

"That night!" was now the allusion to the scene at Besworth. It stood for
all the misery they suffered; nor could they see that they had since made
any of their own.

A letter with the Dover postmark brought exciting news.

A debate had been held on board the yacht. Wilfrid and Lady Charlotte
gave their votes for the Devon coast. All were ready to be off, when Miss
Ford received a telegram from shore, and said, "No; it must be Dover."
Now, Mrs. Chump's villa was on the Devon coast. Lady Charlotte had talked
to Wilfrid about her, and in the simplest language had said that she must
be got on board. This was the reason of their deciding for Devon. But
Georgiana stood for Dover; thither Merthyr said that he must go, whether
be sailed or went on land. By a simultaneous reading of Georgiana's eyes,
both Wilfrid and Lady Charlotte saw what was meant by her decision.
Wilfrid at once affected to give way, half-protestingly. "And this,"
wrote Adela, "taught me that he was well pleased to abandon the West for
the East. Lady C. favoured him with a look such as I could not have
believed I should ever behold off the stage. There was a perfect dagger
in her eyes. She fought against Dover: do men feel such compliments as
these? They are the only true ones! She called the captain to witness
that the wind was not for Dover she called the mate: she was really
eloquent--yes, and handsome. I think Wilfrid thought so; or the reason
far the opposition to Dover impressed my brother. I like him to be made
to look foolish, for then he retrieves his character so
dashingly--always. His face was red, and he seemed undecided--was--until
one taunt (it must have been a taunt), roused him up. They exchanged
about six sentences--these two. I cannot remember them, unhappily; but
for neatness and irony, never was anything so delicious heard. They came
sharp as fencing-thrusts; and you could really believe, if you liked,
that they were merely st