he would encumber himself with
a companion who could not be set aside like a governess, and was of an
age more 'proper' and efficient than agreeable. His unceremonious manner
proved sufficiently that it was a mere joke, and he would probably laugh
his loud, scoffing laugh at the old maid taking him in earnest. Yet she
could not rid herself of the thought of Phoebe's difficulties, and in
poor Bertha, she had the keen interest of nurse towards patient.

'Once before,' she thought, 'have I gone out of the beaten track upon
impulse. Cruel consequences! Yet do I repent? Not of the act, but of
the error that ensued. Then I was eager, young, romantic. Now I would
rather abstain: I am old and sluggish. If it is to be, it will be made
plain. I do not distrust my feeling for Phoebe--it is not the jealous,
hungering love of old; and I hope to be able to discern whether this be
an act of charity! At least, I will not take the initiative. I did so
last time.'

Honor's thoughts and speculations were all at Beauchamp throughout the
evening and the early morning, till her avocations drove it out of her
mind. She was busy, trying hard to get her own way with her bailiff as
to the crops, when she was interrupted by tidings that Mr. Fulmort was in
the drawing-room; and concluding it to be Robert, she did not hurry her
argument upon guano. On entering the room, however, she was amazed at
beholding not Robert, but his brother, cast down in an armchair, and
looking thoroughly tired out.

'Mervyn! I did not expect to see you!'

'Yes, I just walked over. I thought I would report progress. I had no
notion it was so far.'

And in fact he had not been at the Holt since, as a pert boy, he had
found it 'slow.' Honor was rather alarmed at his fatigue, and offered
varieties of sustenance, which he declined, returning with eager
nervousness to the subject in hand.

The Bannermans, he said, had offered to go with Bertha and Phoebe, but
only on condition that Maria was left at a boarding-house, and a
responsible governess taken for Bertha. Moreover, Augusta had told
Bertha herself what was impending, and the poor child had laid a
clinging, trembling grasp on his arm, and hoarsely whispered that if a
stranger came to hear her story, she would die. Alas! it might be easier
than before. He had promised never to consent. 'But what can I do?' he
said, with a hand upon either temple; 'they heed me no more than Maria!'

Robert had