t.

Magdalen's pleasure in the apple blossom seemed to her somewhat
exaggerated, but she made allowances for her, as she had a cold.

"Are you going out again?" asked Magdalen.

"No."

"Then I should like to have a little talk with you. I have something to
tell you."

Bessie sat down.

"I am prepared for the announcement you have to make. I have seen it
coming. It is about Fay."

"No, it is about Father. He has asked me to tell you that he is engaged
to be married."

"Father!"

"Yes, it is not given out yet."

"Father!"

"It is to a Miss Barnett. You may have seen her. The doctor's sister at
Saundersfoot."

"I know her by sight, a tall, showy-looking woman of nearly forty, with
amber hair and a powdered nose."

"Yes."

"Father has sunk very low," said Bessie, judicially. "He must have been
refused by a lot of others, younger and better-looking, and ladies, to
be reduced to taking her. And fancy anyone in their senses being willing
to take Father, with his gout, and his tendency to drink, and his total
disregard of hygiene. Well, she looks a vulgar pushing woman, but I am
sorry for her. And I must own that I am disappointed that if there was
to be an engagement in our family it should be Father. There is not
likely to be more than one going for a home like ours. It is just like
him to grab it."

Magdalen tried not to laugh.

"I've looked round," continued Bessie. "I don't say that at present I
could entertain the thought of marriage myself. I can't just yet, but I
mean to in the future. It's merely a question of time. Marriage is the
higher life. Besides, if one remains unmarried people are apt to think
it is because one can't help it. It would certainly be so in my case.
And I have looked round. There is not a soul in the neighbourhood for
any of us to marry that I can see except Wentworth, who is of course
extremely elderly. Hampshire seems absolutely bare of young men. And if
there are a few sons in some of the houses, they are never accessible.
And the really superior ones like Lord Alresford's only son would never
look at me. It would be waste of time to try. There is positively no
opening in Hampshire unless I marry the curate."

"That reminds me that he is to call this afternoon about the
boot-and-shoe club. I wish, my dear, in the intervals between your
aspirations towards the higher life, you would go through the accounts
with him. My head is so confused with this cold."

"I will. And