ot understand my position!" She remembered
the day at Besworth, of which Adela (somewhat needlessly, perhaps)
had told her; that it had revealed two of the family, in situations
censurable before a gossiping world, however intrinsically blameless.
That day had been to the ladies a lesson of deference to opinion. It
was true that Cornelia had met her lover since, but she was
then unembarrassed. She had now to share in the duties of the
household--duties abnormal, hideous, incredible. Her incomprehensible
father was absent in town. Daily Wilfrid conducted Adela thither on
mysterious business, and then Mrs. Chump was left to Arabella and
herself in the lonely house. Numberless things had to be said for the
quieting of this creature, who every morning came downstairs with the
exclamation that she could no longer endure her state of uncertainty,
and was "off to a lawyer." It was useless to attempt the posture of
a reply. Words, and energetic words, the woman demanded, not
expostulations--petitions that she would be respectful to the house
before the household. Yes, occasionally (so gross was she!) she had to
be fed with lies. Arabella and Cornelia heard one another mouthing these
dreadful things, with a wretched feeling of contemptuous compassion. The
trial was renewed daily, and it was a task, almost a physical task, to
hold the woman back from London, till the hour of lunch came. If they
kept her away from her bonnet till then they were safe.

At this meal they had to drink champagne with her. Diplomatic Wilfrid
had issued the order, with the object, first, of dazzling her vision;
and secondly, to set the wheels of her brain in swift motion. The effect
was marvellous; and, had it not been for her determination never to
drink alone, the miserable ladies might have applauded it. Adela, on the
rare days when she was fortunate enough to reach Brookfield in time for
dinner, was surprised to hear her sisters exclaim, "Oh, the hatefulness
of that champagne!" She enjoyed it extremely. She, poor thing, had again
to go through a round of cabs and confectioners' shops in London. "If
they had said, 'Oh, the hatefulness of those buns and cold chickens!'"
she thought to herself. Not objecting to champagne at lunch with any
particular vehemence, she was the less unwilling to tell her sisters
what she had to do for Wilfrid daily.

"Three times a week I go to see Emilia at Lady Gosstre's town-house. Mr.
Powys has gone to Italy, and Miss F