m?"

"Shut my doors! Of course I can. He'll never be able to get his nose in
here if once an order has been given for his exclusion. Who's Mr.
Annesley? I don't suppose he knows an Englishman in Brussels."

"But she will go out to meet him."

"What! in the streets?" said Sir Magnus, in horror.

"I fear she would."

"By George! she must be a stiff-necked one if she'll do that." Then Mrs.
Mountjoy, with tears in her eyes, began to explain with very many
epithets that her daughter was the best girl in all the world. She was
entirely worthy of confidence. Those who knew her were aware that no
better behaved young woman could exist. She was conscientious,
religious, and high-principled. "But she'll go out in the streets and
walk with a young man when all her friends tell her not. Is that her
idea of religion?" Then Mrs. Mountjoy, with some touch of anger in the
tone of her voice, said that she would return to England, and carry her
daughter with her. "What the deuce can I do, Sarah, when the young lady
is so unruly? I can give orders to have him shut out, and can take care
that they are obeyed; but I cannot give orders to have her shut in. I
should be making her a prisoner, and everybody would talk about it. In
that matter you must give her the orders;--only you say that she would
not comply with them."

On the following day Mrs. Mountjoy informed her daughter that they would
go back to Cheltenham. She did not name an immediate day, because it
would be well, she thought, to stave off the evil hour. Nor did she name
a distant day, because, were she to do so, the terrible evil of Harry
Annesley's arrival in Brussels would not be prevented. At first she
wished to name no day, thinking that it would be a good thing to cross
Harry on the road. But here Florence was too strong for her, and at last
a day was fixed. In a week's time they would take their departure and go
home by slow stages. With this arrangement Florence expressed herself
well pleased, and of course made Harry acquainted with the probable time
of their arrival.

M. Grascour, when he heard that the day had been suddenly fixed for the
departure of Mrs. Mountjoy and her daughter, not unnaturally conceived
that he himself was the cause of the ladies' departure. Nor did he on
that account resign all hope. The young lady's mother was certainly on
his side, and he thought it quite possible that were he to appear in
England he might be successful. But when he had h