the widow. But John
had prevailed. "He'll do it any way, mother," he had said, "whether
you and I like it or not. And why on earth shouldn't he do as he
pleases?"

"Think what the man was, John!"

"It's more to the purpose to think what the woman is. Arthur has made
up his mind, and, if I know him, he's not the man to be talked out of
it." And so the old woman had given in, and had at last consented to
go forward as the advanced guard of the Fletchers, and lay siege to
the affections of the woman whom she had once so thoroughly discarded
from her heart.

"My dear," she said, when they first met, "if there has been anything
wrong between you and me, let it be among the things that are past.
You always used to kiss me. Give me a kiss now." Of course Emily
kissed her; and after that Mrs. Fletcher patted her and petted her,
and gave her lozenges, which she declared in private to be "the
sovereignest thing on earth" for debilitated nerves. And then it came
out by degrees that John Fletcher and his wife and all the little
Fletchers were coming to Wharton for the Christmas weeks. Everett had
gone, but was also to be back for Christmas, and Mr. Wharton's visit
was also postponed. It was absolutely necessary that Everett should
be at Wharton for the Christmas festivities, and expedient that
Everett's father should be there to see them. In this way Emily had
no means of escape. Her father wrote telling her of his plans, saying
that he would bring her back after Christmas. Everett's heirship
had made these Christmas festivities,--which were, however, to be
confined to the two families,--quite a necessity. In all this not a
word was said about Arthur, nor did she dare to ask whether he was
expected. The younger Mrs. Fletcher, John's wife, opened her arms
to the widow in a manner that almost plainly said that she regarded
Emily as her future sister-in-law. John Fletcher talked to her about
Longbarns, and the children,--complete Fletcher talk,--as though she
were already one of them, never, however, mentioning Arthur's name.
The old lady got down a fresh supply of the lozenges from London
because those she had by her might perhaps be a little stale. And
then there was another sign which after a while became plain to
Emily. No one in either family ever mentioned her name. It was
not singular that none of them should call her Mrs. Lopez, as she
was Emily to all of them. But they never so described her even in
speaking to the serv