believed him to be one in whose hands her friend's happiness would be
secure. Then, by degrees, the conversation changed from the loves of
Mr Oriel and Beatrice to the troubles of Frank Gresham and herself.

"She says, that let what will happen you shall be one of her
bridesmaids."

"Ah, yes, dear Trichy! that was settled between us in auld lang syne;
but those settlements are all unsettled now, must all be broken. No,
I cannot be her bridesmaid; but I shall yet hope to see her once
before her marriage."

"And why not be her bridesmaid? Lady Arabella will hardly object to
that."

"Lady Arabella!" said Mary, curling her lip with deep scorn. "I do
not care that for Lady Arabella," and she let her silver thimble fall
from her fingers on to the table. "If Beatrice invited me to her
wedding, she might manage as to that; I should ask no question as to
Lady Arabella."

"Then why not come to it?"

She remained silent for a while, and then boldly answered. "Though I
do not care for Lady Arabella, I do care for Mr Gresham:--and I do
care for his son."

"But the squire always loved you."

"Yes, and therefore I will not be there to vex his sight. I will tell
you the truth, Patience. I can never be in that house again till
Frank Gresham is a married man, or till I am about to be a married
woman. I do not think they have treated me well, but I will not treat
them ill."

"I am sure you will not do that," said Miss Oriel.

"I will endeavour not to do so; and, therefore, will go to none of
their fetes! No, Patience." And then she turned her head to the arm
of the sofa, and silently, without audible sobs, hiding her face, she
endeavoured to get rid of her tears unseen. For one moment she had
all but resolved to pour out the whole truth of her love into her
friend's ears; but suddenly she changed her mind. Why should she talk
of her own unhappiness? Why should she speak of her own love when she
was fully determined not to speak of Frank's promises.

"Mary, dear Mary."

"Anything but pity, Patience; anything but that," said she,
convulsively, swallowing down her sobs, and rubbing away her tears.
"I cannot bear that. Tell Beatrice from me, that I wish her every
happiness; and, with such a husband, I am sure she will be happy. I
wish her every joy; give her my kindest love; but tell her I cannot
be at her marriage. Oh, I should so like to see her; not there, you
know, but here, in my own room, where I still have liberty to