ton had been very short, replied as shortly to his cousin. "Dear
Abel,--We all hope that Emily will be happy, though of course we
regret the marriage." The father, though he had not himself written
triumphantly, or even hopefully,--as fathers are wont to write when
their daughters are given away in marriage,--was wounded by the
curtness and unkindness of the baronet's reply, and at the moment
declared to himself that he would never go to Herefordshire any more.
But on the following day there came a worse blow than Sir Alured's
single line. Emily, not in the least doubting but that her request
would be received with the usual ready assent, had asked Mary Wharton
to be one of her bridesmaids. It must be supposed that the answer to
this was written, if not under the dictation, at any rate under the
inspiration, of Mrs. Fletcher. It was as follows:--

DEAR EMILY,

Of course we all wish you to be very happy in your
marriage, but equally of course we are all disappointed.
We had taught ourselves to think that you would have bound
yourself closer with us down here, instead of separating
yourself entirely from us.

Under all the circumstances mamma thinks it would not be
wise for me to go up to London as one of your bridesmaids.

Your affectionate Cousin,

MARY WHARTON.

This letter made poor Emily very angry for a day or two. "It is as
unreasonable as it is ill-natured," she said to her brother.

"What else could you expect from a stiff-necked, prejudiced set of
provincial ignoramuses?"

"What Mary says is not true. She did not think that I was going to
bind myself closer with them, as she calls it. I have been quite
open with her, and have always told her that I could not be Arthur
Fletcher's wife."

"Why on earth should you marry to please them?"

"Because they don't know Ferdinand they are determined to insult him.
It is an insult never to mention even his name. And to refuse to come
to my marriage! The world is wide and there is room for us and them;
but it makes me unhappy,--very unhappy,--that I should have to break
with them." And then the tears came into her eyes. It was intended,
no doubt, to be a complete breach, for not a single wedding present
was sent from Wharton Hall to the bride. But from Longbarns,--from
John Fletcher himself,--there did come an elaborate coffee-pot,
which, in spite of its inutility and ugliness, was very valuable to
Emily.

But there was one o