nner,--knew very little of her character; but he did know that
it was incumbent on him to give her some opportunity of taking her
beauty to market. He wrote a line to Ralph, saying that he himself
would dine at home on the day indicated.

"Impossible!" said Clary, when she was first told.

"You may be sure he's coming," said Patience.

"Then I shall go and spend the day with Mrs. Brownlow. I cannot stand
it."

"My dear, he'll know why you are away."

"Let him know," said Clarissa. And she did as she said she would.
When Sir Thomas came home at about four o'clock on the Thursday which
Ralph had fixed,--Thursday, the fourteenth of April,--he found that
Clarissa had flown. The fly was to be sent for her at ten, and it was
calculated that by the time she returned, Ralph would certainly have
taken his leave. Sir Thomas expressed neither anger nor satisfaction
at this arrangement,--"Oh; she has gone to Mrs. Brownlow's, has she?
Very well. I don't suppose it will make much difference to Ralph."
"None in the least," said Patience, severely. "Nothing of that kind
will make any difference to him." But at that time Ralph had been
above an hour in the house.

We will now return to Ralph and his adventures. He had come up to
London with the express object of pressing his suit upon Mary Bonner;
but during his first day or two in London had busied himself rather
with the affairs of his other love. He had been with Mr. Carey, and
Mr. Carey had been with Mr. Neefit. "He is the maddest old man that
I ever saw," said Mr. Carey. "When I suggested to him that you were
willing to make any reasonable arrangement,--meaning a thousand
pounds, or something of that kind,--I couldn't get him to understand
me at all."

"I don't think he wants money," said Ralph.

"'Let him come down and eat a bit of dinner at the cottage,' said he,
'and we'll make it all square.' Then I offered him a thousand pounds
down."

"What did he say?"

"Called to a fellow he had there with a knife in his hand, cutting
leather, to turn me out of the shop. And the man would have done it,
too, if I hadn't gone."

This was not promising, but on the following morning Ralph received a
letter which put him into better heart. The letter was from Polly
herself, and was written as follows:--

Alexandra Cottage, Hendon,
April 10th, 186--.

MY DEAR SIR,

Father has been going on with all that nonsense of his,
and I think it most straightforward to