o make one of your party. If so, you can go to her afterwards
and make your own arrangements. Just write her a note, my dear, and
say that I will call to-morrow at twelve. It might fluster her if I
were to go in without notice."

Beatrice did as she was bid, but with a presentiment that no good
would come of it. The note was certainly unnecessary for the purpose
assigned by Lady Arabella, as Mary was not given to be flustered by
such occurrences; but, perhaps, it was as well that it was written,
as it enabled her to make up her mind steadily as to what information
should be given, and what should not be given to her coming visitor.

On the next morning, at the appointed hour, Lady Arabella walked down
to the doctor's house. She never walked about the village without
making some little disturbance among the inhabitants. With the
squire, himself, they were quite familiar, and he could appear and
reappear without creating any sensation; but her ladyship had not
made herself equally common in men's sight. Therefore, when she
went in at the doctor's little gate, the fact was known through all
Greshamsbury in ten minutes, and before she had left the house, Mrs
Umbleby and Miss Gushing had quite settled between them what was the
exact cause of the very singular event.

The doctor, when he had heard what was going to happen, carefully
kept out of the way: Mary, therefore, had the pleasure of
receiving Lady Arabella alone. Nothing could exceed her ladyship's
affability. Mary thought that it perhaps might have savoured less
of condescension; but then, on this subject, Mary was probably
prejudiced. Lady Arabella smiled and simpered, and asked after the
doctor, and the cat, and Janet, and said everything that could have
been desired by any one less unreasonable than Mary Thorne.

"And now, Mary, I'll tell you why I have called." Mary bowed her
head slightly, as much to say, that she would be glad to receive any
information that Lady Arabella could give her on that subject. "Of
course you know that Beatrice is going to be married very shortly."

Mary acknowledged that she had heard so much.

"Yes: we think it will be in September--early in September--and that
is coming very soon now. The poor girl is anxious that you should be
at her wedding." Mary turned slightly red; but she merely said, and
that somewhat too coldly, that she was much indebted to Beatrice for
her kindness.

"I can assure you, Mary, that she is very fond of