one day, and the next as rich as the
Queen--without any merit of theirs, all because some chance man happens
to take a fancy to them."

"Quite right," said Sir Robert; "quite right, my dear. It is the natural
course of affairs."

Miss Dorset shook her head. She went on shaking her head as she poured
out the tea. She was not given to eloquence, but the subject inspired
her.

"Don't think of it, Ursula; it is not the sort of thing that good girls
ought to think of," and the elder sister made signs to Sophy, who was
reckless, and did not mind the moral effect of the suggestion.

"Poor Mrs. Copperhead! I shall never have a house in Portland Place, nor
any diamonds, except Aunt Mary's old brooch. I shall live and die an old
maid, and nobody will waste a thought upon me," said Sophy, who made
this prophecy at her ease, not expecting it to come true; "but I don't
envy poor Clara, and if you marry such a man as Mr. Copperhead, though I
shall admire you very much, Ursula, I shan't envy you."

"Is young Mr. Copperhead as bad as his father?" said Ursula, simply.

She was so far from thinking what meaning could be attached to her
words, that she stopped and looked, wondering, from one to another when
they laughed.

"Ha! ha! ha!" said Sir Robert; "not so bad, either!"

Poor Ursula was extremely serious. She turned with relief to Miss
Dorset, who was serious too.

"My dear, we don't know much about Clarence; he is a heavy young man. I
don't think he is attractive. Have you had a letter from the Parsonage
this morning?" said Anne Dorset, with a very grave face; and as it
turned out that Ursula had a letter, Miss Dorset immediately plunged
into discussion of it. The girl did not understand why the simple little
epistle should be so interesting, nor did she perceive yet what the
laughter was about. To tell the truth, Ursula, who was not clever, had
thought young Mr. Copperhead very _nice_. He had asked her to dance when
nobody else did; he had talked to her as much as he could have talked to
Sophy Dorset herself. He had rehabilitated her in her own eyes after the
first disappointment and failure of the evening, and she was prepared to
think, whatever might be said about the father, that the son was "very
kind" and very agreeable. Why should they laugh? Ursula concluded that
there must be some private joke of their own about Clarence (what a
pretty, interesting, superior name Clarence was!) which she could not be
permitted to