e does not say that."

"Ah! but I'm sure that he does. The former is true enough, and I
never complain of the truth. But as to the latter, I am by no means
so certain that it is true--not in the sense that he means it."

"Dear, dearest woman, don't go on in that way now. Do speak out to
me, and speak without jesting."

"Whose was the other judgement to whom he trusts so implicitly? Tell
me that."

"Mine, mine, of course. No one else can have spoken to him about it.
Of course I talked to him."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him--"

"Well, out with it. Let me have the real facts. Mind, I tell you
fairly that you had no right to tell him anything. What passed
between us, passed in confidence. But let us hear what you did say."

"I told him that you would have him if he offered." And Mrs. Gresham,
as she spoke, looked into her friend's face doubtingly, not knowing
whether in very truth Miss Dunstable were pleased with her or
displeased. If she were displeased, then how had her uncle been
deceived!

"You told him that as a fact?"

"I told him that I thought so."

"Then I suppose I am bound to have him," said Miss Dunstable,
dropping the letter on to the floor in mock despair.

"My dear, dear, dearest woman!" said Mrs. Gresham, bursting into
tears, and throwing herself on to her friend's neck.

"Mind you are a dutiful niece," said Miss Dunstable. "And now let me
go and finish dressing." In the course of the afternoon, an answer
was sent back to Greshamsbury, in these words:--

DEAR DR. THORNE,

I do and will trust you in everything; and it shall be as
you would have it. Mary writes to you; but do not believe
a word she says. I never will again, for she has behaved
so bad in this matter.

Yours affectionately and very truly,

MARTHA DUNSTABLE.

"And so I am going to marry the richest woman in England," said Dr.
Thorne to himself, as he sat down that day to his mutton-chop.

CHAPTER XL

Internecine

It must be conceived that there was some feeling of triumph at
Plumstead Episcopi, when the wife of the rector returned home with
her daughter, the bride elect of the Lord Dumbello. The heir of the
Marquess of Hartletop was, in wealth, the most considerable unmarried
young nobleman of the day; he was noted, too, as a man difficult to
be pleased, as one who was very fine and who gave himself airs; and
to have been selected as the wife of such a man as this was a g