oked on with the greatest composure while poor
Miss Dora exhausted her alarm. "It is all my fault," sobbed aunt Dora;
"but, oh, my dear boy, it was only for your good; and I always said you
did not mean anything," said the discomfited peacemaker. All this,
though it was highly amusing to the prodigal, was gall and bitterness to
the Perpetual Curate. It moved him far more deeply than he could have
imagined it possible for anything spoken by his aunt Dora to move him.
Perhaps there is something in human nature which demands to be
comprehended, even where it is aware that comprehension is impossible;
and it wounded him in the most unreasonable way to have it supposed that
he was likely to get into any quarrel with his brother, and to see Jack
thus preferred to himself.

"Don't be a fool," said Miss Leonora, sharply: "I wish you would
confine yourself to Louisa's bassinet, and talk of things you can
understand. I hope Frank knows what he is doing better than a set of
old women. At the same time, Frank," said Miss Leonora, rising and
leading the way to the door, "I want to say a word to you. Don't
think you are above misconception. Most people believe a lie more
readily than the truth. Dora is a fool," said the elder sister,
pausing, when she had led her nephew outside the drawing-room door,
"but so are most people; and I advise you to be careful, and not to
give occasion for any gossip; otherwise, I don't say _I_ disapprove of
your conduct." She had her pen in one hand, and held out the other to
him, dismissing him; and even this added to the painful feeling in the
Curate's heart.

"I should hope not," he said, somewhat stiffly; "good-bye--my conduct is
not likely to be affected by any gossip, and I don't see any need for
taking precautions against imaginary danger." Miss Leonora thought her
nephew looked very ungracious as he went away. She said to herself that
Frank had a great deal of temper, and resembled his mother's family more
than the Wentworths, as she went back to her writing-table; and though
she could not disapprove of him, she felt vexed somehow at his rectitude
and his impatience of advice; whereas, Jack, poor fellow! who had been a
great sinner, was, according to all appearance, a great penitent also,
and a true Wentworth, with all the family features. Such were Miss
Leonora's thoughts as she went back to finish her letters, and to
encourage her agents in her London district to carry on the good work.

"Go