might be better. Yes, it
might do. You would be half a mile nearer your dear Miss Charlecote.'

'Thank you,' said Phoebe, a little sarcastically; but repenting she
added, 'Mervyn, I hope I do not seem unkind and selfish; but I think we
ought to consider mamma, as she cannot stand up for herself just now. It
is not unlikely that when mamma hears you are engaged, and has seen and
grown fond of Miss Raymond, she may think herself of giving up this
place; but it ought to begin from her, not from you; and as things are
now, I could not think of saying anything about it. From what you tell
me of Miss Raymond, I don't think she would be the less likely to take
you without Beauchamp than with it; indeed, I think you must want it less
for her sake than your own.'

'Upon my word, Mrs. Phoebe, you are a cool hand!' exclaimed Mervyn,
laughing; 'but you promise to see what can be done as soon as I've got my
hand into the matter.'

'I promise nothing,' said Phoebe; 'I hope it will be settled without me,
for I do not know what would be the most right or most kind, but it may
be plainer when the time comes, and she, who is so good, will be sure to
know. O Mervyn, I am very glad of that!'

Phoebe sought the west wing in such a tingle of emotion that she only
gave Miss Fennimore a brief good night instead of lingering to talk over
the day. Indignation was foremost. After destroying Robert's hopes for
life, here was Mervyn accepting wedded happiness as a right, and after
having knowingly trifled with a loving heart for all these years, coolly
deigning to pick it up, and making terms to secure his own consequence
and freedom from all natural duties, and to thrust his widowed mother
from her own home. It was Phoebe's first taste of the lesson so bitter
to many, that her parents' home was not her own for life, and the
expulsion seemed to her so dreadful that she rebuked herself for personal
feeling in her resentment, and it was with a sort of horror that she
bethought herself that her mother might possibly prefer a watering-place
life, and that it would then be her part to submit cheerfully. Poor Miss
Charlecote! would not she miss her little moonbeam? Yes, but if this
Cecily were so good, she would make up to her. The pang of suffering and
dislike quite startled Phoebe. She knew it for jealousy, and hid her
face in prayer.

The next day was Sunday, and Mervyn made the unprecedented exertion of
going twice to church, observ