to become her husband. She felt
sure that he had been wickedly crafty in the whole matter, and had
lured her on to expose herself in her innocence.

But what should she do? Should she write to him an epistle full of
tenderness? She felt sure that it would be altogether ineffectual.
Should she fill sheets with indignation? It would be of no use unless
she could follow up her indignation by strong measures. Should she
let the thing pass by in silence, as though she and Sir Francis had
never known each other? She would certainly do so, but that she
had allowed her matrimonial prospects to become common through all
Exeter. She must also let Exeter know how badly Sir Francis intended
to treat her. To her, too, the idea of a prolonged sojourn in the
United States presented itself. In former days there had come upon
her a great longing to lecture at Chicago, at Saint Paul's, and
Omaha, on the distinctive duties of the female sex. Now again the
idea returned to her. She thought that in one of those large Western
halls, full of gas and intelligence, she could rise to the height of
her subject with a tremendous eloquence. But then would not the name
of Sir Francis travel with her and crush her?

She did resolve upon informing Mrs. Green. She took three days to
think of it, and then she sent for Mrs. Green. "Of all human beings,"
she said, "you, I think, are the truest to me." Mrs. Green of course
expressed herself as much flattered. "And therefore I will tell you.
No false pride shall operate with me to make me hold my tongue. Of
all the false deceivers that have ever broken a woman's heart, that
man is the basest and the falsest."

In this way she let all Exeter know that she was not to be married to
Sir Francis Geraldine; and another paragraph appeared in the "Western
Telegraph," declaring that after all Sir Francis Geraldine was not to
be allied to the Fiascos and Disgrazias of Rome.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CONCLUSION.

Though the news of Miss Altifiorla's broken engagement did reach Mrs.
Western at St. David's, she was in a state of mind which prevented
her almost from recognising the fact. It was the very day on which
her husband was to come to her. And her joy was so extreme as almost
to have become painful. "Mamma," she said, "I shall not know what to
say to him."

"Just let him come and receive him quietly."

"Receive him quietly! How can I be quiet when he will have come back
to me? I think you do not realise