t to my world--the world, I mean, in which I have been
brought up. I know what is right for myself--but it would be silly to
believe mine is the only rightness"--

"Ah!" Charles Verity murmured, under his breath, "alas! for the child
that is dead."

And leaning forward he kissed her lips.

CHAPTER X

TELLING HOW MISS FELICIA VERITY UNSUCCESSFULLY ATTEMPTED A RESCUE

With the assistance of the Miss Minetts, reinforced by a bribe of five
shillings, Theresa Bilson procured a boy on a bicycle, early the
following morning, to convey a note the twelve miles to Paulton Lacy--Mr.
Augustus Cowden's fine Georgian mansion, situate just within the Southern
boundaries of Arnewood Forest. Miss Felicia Verity, to whom the note was
addressed, still enjoyed the hospitality of her sister and
brother-in-law; but this, as Mrs. Cowden gave her roundly to understand,
must not be taken to include erratic demands upon the stables. If she
required unexpectedly to visit her brother or her niece at Deadham Hard,
she must contrive to do so by train, and by such hired conveyances as the
wayside station of Paulton Halt at this end of her journey, and of
Marychurch at the other, might be equal to supplying.

"In my opinion, Felicia, it is quite ridiculous you should attempt to go
there at all to-day," Mrs. Cowden, giving over for the moment her study
of the _Morning Post,_ commandingly told her. "If Damaris has got a cold
in her head through some imprudence, and if Charles has called Miss
Bilson over the coals for not being more strict with her, that really is
no reason why Augustus' and my plans for the afternoon should be set
aside or why you should be out in the rain for hours with your
rheumatism. I shall not even mention the subject to Augustus. We arranged
to drive over to Napworth for tea, and I never let anything interfere
with my engagements to the Bulparcs as you know. I encourage Augustus to
see as much as possible of his own people.--I have no doubt in my own
mind that the account of Damaris' illness is absurdly exaggerated. You
know how Charles spoils her! She has very much too much freedom; and
little Miss Bilson, though well-meaning, is incapable of coping with a
headstrong girl like Damaris. She ought--Damaris ought I mean--to have
been sent to a finishing school for another year at least. She might then
have found her level. If Charles had consulted me, or shown the least
willingness to accept my advice, I should have i