, turn up your nose at the blessings that Providence sets before
you; and I must say, that for a young woman deliberately to choose to
remain a burden upon her friends, betokens an amount of servility and
a lack of the spirit of independence which I should not have supposed
possible even in you!"

"What do you want me to do?" said Vera, without a sign of impatience.
"Shall I walk over to Tripton this afternoon, and make a low curtsey to
Mr. Gisburne, and say to him very politely, 'Here is an idle and
penniless young woman who would be very pleased to stop here and marry
you!' Would that be the way to do it, Mrs. Daintree?"

"No, no, _no_!" imperatively from Tommy, who was listening with rapidly
crimsoning cheeks; "you shall _not_ go and stop at Tripton, and tell Mr.
Gisburne you will marry him!"

Vera laughed. "No, Tommy, I don't think I will; not, that is to say, if
you are a good boy. I think I can do something better than that with
myself!" she added, softly, as if to herself. Mrs. Daintree caught the
words.

"And _what_ better, pray? What better chance are you ever likely to have?
Let me tell you, bachelors who want penniless wives don't grow on the
blackberry bushes down here! If you were not so selfish and so conceited,
you would see where your duty to my son, who is supporting you, lay. You
would see that to be married to an honest, upright man like Albert
Gisburne is a chance that most girls would catch at only too thankfully."

The old lady had raised her voice; she spoke loud and angrily; she was
rapidly working herself into a passion. Tommy, accustomed to family rows,
stood on the hearthrug, looking excitedly from his grandmother to his
aunt. He was a precocious child; he did not quite understand, and yet he
understood partly. He knew that his grandmother was scolding Vera, and
telling her she was to go away and marry Mr. Gisburne. That Vera should
go away! That, in itself, was sufficiently awful. Tommy adored Vera with
all the intensity of his childish soul; that she should go away from him
to Mr. Gisburne seemed to him the most terrible visitation that could
possibly happen. His little heart swelled within him; the tears were very
near his eyes.

At this very minute the door softly opened, and Sir John Kynaston, whose
ring had been unheard in the commotion, was ushered in.

Tommy thought he saw a deliverer, specially sent in by Providence for the
occasion. He made one spring at him and caught him rou