py in giving him up, so I may speak
freely. I am afraid of it. I cannot be certain that he is so completely
cured of his old attachment as he supposes himself to be while the anger
is fresh. He is as good as possible--quite sincere, and would never
willingly pain you, whatever he may feel. But his affection for Theodora
was of long standing; and without any one's fault there might be worries
and vexations--'

'Yes, yes,' said Annette, in a voice that reassured her.

'I think it wiser not, and perhaps more honourable to Theodora. Hitherto
I have been wishing that it might yet be made up again. If you had been
disposed that way, I should have been anxious,--as you seem doubtful, I
fancy it would be safer--'

'O, Violet, I am so glad! It is a great relief to me.'

'But, you know, it is only I that say so.'

'Better you than a hundred! My doubt was this. You know there are a
great many of us, and papa wants to see us well married. He has talked
more about it since you went. Now this is not romantic; but I was
considering whether, for the sake of the rest, I ought not to try
whether I could like him. But what you have said sets me quite at ease
in refusing him.'

'Poor Percy!' said Violet. 'I am afraid he will be vexed.'

'And it is a great compliment, though that is to you. He takes me on
trust from you.'

'And he took me on trust from John,' said Violet. 'I wish he had known
you before Theodora.'

'I only hope papa will never hear of it,' said Annette, shrinking. 'How
fortunate that he was not here. I shall tell no one at home.'

'If it had not been for Theodora,' sighed Violet, 'I know nothing that
would have been more delightful. It was too charming to come true!'

'Violet,' said Annette, with her face averted, 'don't be sorry, for I
could not have been glad of it now; though for their sakes I might have
tried to work myself into the feeling. I cannot help telling you, though
you will think it more wrong in me, for I shall never see HIM again, and
he never said anything.'

'I know whom you mean,' whispered Violet, rightly divining it was Mr.
Fanshawe.

'Don't call it anything,' said Annette, with her head drooping. 'I would
not have told even you, but to console you about this. Nothing ever
passed, and I was silly to dwell on the little things they laughed at me
about, but I cannot help thinking that if he had seen any prospect--'

'I wonder if John could--' Violet checked herself.

'O, don't say anyth