was too late now for doubting, and on the next day she found
herself getting out of the old Redicote fly, at Colonel Askerton's
door. He came out to meet her, and his greeting was very friendly.
Hitherto there had been no great intimacy between him and her, owing
rather to the manner of life adopted by him than to any cause of
mutual dislike between them. Mrs. Askerton had shown herself desirous
of some social intercourse since she had been at Belton, but with
Colonel Askerton there had been nothing of this. He had come there
intending to live alone, and had been satisfied to carry out his
purpose. But now Clara had come to his house as a guest, and he
assumed towards her altogether a new manner. "We are so glad to have
you," he said, taking both her hands. Then she passed on into the
cottage, and in a minute was in her friend's arms.

"Dear Clara;--dearest Clara, I am so glad to have you here."

"It is very good of you."

"No, dear; the goodness is with you to come. But we won't quarrel
about that. We will both be ever so good. And he is so happy that
you should be here. You'll get to know him now. But come up-stairs.
There's a fire in your room, and I'll be your maid for the
occasion,--because then we can talk." Clara did as she was bid and
went up-stairs; and as she sat over the fire while her friend knelt
beside her,--for Mrs. Askerton was given to such kneelings,--she
could not but tell herself that Belton Cottage was much more
comfortable than Aylmer Park. During the whole time of her sojourn
at Aylmer Park no word of real friendship had once greeted her
ears. Everything there had been cold and formal, till coldness and
formality had given way to violent insolence.

"And so you have quarrelled with her ladyship," said Mrs. Askerton.
"I knew you would."

"I have not said anything about quarrelling with her."

"But of course you have. Come, now; don't make yourself disagreeable.
You have had a downright battle;--have you not?"

"Something very like it, I'm afraid."

"I am so glad," said Mrs. Askerton, rubbing her hands.

"That is ill-natured."

"Very well. Let it be ill-natured. One isn't to be good-natured all
round, or what would be the use of it? And what sort of woman is
she?"

"Oh dear; I couldn't describe her. She is very large, and wears a
great wig, and manages everything herself, and I've no doubt she's a
very good woman in her own way."

"I can see her at once;--and a very pillar of virtue