re likely to produce a contrary result.'

'So thinks Milicent; but allow me to say I think otherwise. If I thought
myself doomed to old-maidenhood, I should cease to value my life. The
thoughts of living on, year after year, at the Grove--a hanger-on upon
mamma and Walter, a mere cumberer of the ground (now that I know in what
light they would regard it), is perfectly intolerable; I would rather run
away with the butler.'

'Your circumstances are peculiar, I allow; but have patience, love; do
nothing rashly. Remember you are not yet nineteen, and many years are
yet to pass before any one can set you down as an old maid: you cannot
tell what Providence may have in store for you. And meantime, remember
you have a right to the protection and support of your mother and
brother, however they may seem to grudge it.'

'You are so grave, Mrs. Huntingdon,' said Esther, after a pause. 'When
Milicent uttered the same discouraging sentiments concerning marriage, I
asked if she was happy: she said she was; but I only half believed her;
and now I must put the same question to you.'

'It is a very impertinent question,' laughed I, 'from a young girl to a
married woman so many years her senior, and I shall not answer it.'

'Pardon me, dear madam,' said she, laughingly throwing herself into my
arms, and kissing me with playful affection; but I felt a tear on my
neck, as she dropped her head on my bosom and continued, with an odd
mixture of sadness and levity, timidity and audacity,--'I know you are
not so happy as I mean to be, for you spend half your life alone at
Grassdale, while Mr. Huntingdon goes about enjoying himself where and how
he pleases. I shall expect my husband to have no pleasures but what he
shares with me; and if his greatest pleasure of all is not the enjoyment
of my company, why, it will be the worse for him, that's all.'

'If such are your expectations of matrimony, Esther, you must, indeed, be
careful whom you marry--or rather, you must avoid it altogether.'

CHAPTER XLII

September 1st.--No Mr. Huntingdon yet. Perhaps he will stay among his
friends till Christmas; and then, next spring, he will be off again. If
he continue this plan, I shall be able to stay at Grassdale well
enough--that is, I shall be able to stay, and that is enough; even an
occasional bevy of friends at the shooting season may be borne, if Arthur
get so firmly attached to me, so well established in good sense and
principl