im, of course, I can't make you."

"No, mamma, you cannot."

"Mrs. Broughton understands that, no doubt;--and so, probably, does Mr
Dalrymple. I can only tell them what are my ideas. If you choose to
marry the sweep at the crossing, I can't help it. Only I don't see
what good you would do the sweep, when he would have to sweep for
himself and you too. At any rate, I suppose you mean to go home with
me now?" Then Mrs. Broughton and Clara left the room, and Mrs. Van
Siever was left with Conway Dalrymple. "Mr. Dalrymple," said Mrs. Van
Siever, "do not deceive yourself. What I told you just now will
certainly come to pass."

"It seems to me that that must depend on the young lady," said
Dalrymple.

"I'll tell you what certainly will not depend on the young lady,"
said Mrs. Van Siever, "and that is whether the man who marries her
will have more with her than the clothes she stands up in. You will
understand that argument, I suppose?"

"I'm not quite sure that I do," said Dalrymple.

"Then you'd better try to understand it. Good-morning, sir. I'm sorry
you've had to slit your picture." Then she curtseyed low, and walked
out on to the landing-place. "Clara," she cried, "I'm waiting for
you,--sixpence a quarter of an hour,--remember that." In a minute
or two Clara came out to her, and then Mrs. Van Siever and Miss Van
Siever took their departure.

"Oh, Conway, what am I to do? what am I to do?" said Mrs. Dobbs
Broughton. Dalrymple stood perplexed for a few minutes, and would not
tell her what she was to do. She was in such a position that it was
very hard to tell her what she was to do. "Do you believe, Conway,
that he is really ruined?"

"What am I to say? How am I to know?"

"I see that you believe it," said the wretched woman.

"I cannot but believe that there is something of truth in what this
woman says. Why else should she come here with such a story?" Then
there was a pause, during which Mrs. Broughton was burying her face
on the arm of the sofa. "I'll tell you what I'll do," continued he.
"I'll go into the City, and make inquiry. It can hardly be but what
I shall learn the truth there."

Then there was another pause, at the end of which Mrs. Broughton got
up from the sofa.

"Tell me," said she;--"what do you mean to do about that girl?"

"You heard me ask her to be my wife?"

"I did! I did!"

"Is it not what you intended?"

"Do not ask me. My mind is bewildered. My brain is on fire! Oh,
Conway!"