rue about Fanny? If you wish it, I will
write to Hampstead and ask him all about it." In order to escape from
the misery of the moment he assented to this proposition. The letter
being anonymous had to his thinking been disgraceful and therefore
he had disbelieved it. And having induced himself to disbelieve the
statements made, he had been drawn into expressing,--or at any rate
to acknowledging by his silence,--a conviction that such a marriage
as that proposed with Marion Fay would be very base. Her ladyship
felt therefore that if Lord Hampstead could be got to acknowledge the
engagement, something would have been done towards establishing a
quarrel between the father and the son.

"Has that man gone yet?" he asked as his wife rose to leave the room.

"Has what man gone?"

"Mr. Greenwood."

"Gone? How should he have gone? It has never been expected that he
should go by this time. I don't see why he should go at all. He was
told that you would not again require his services up in London. As
far as I know, that is all that has been said about going." The poor
man turned himself on his sofa angrily, but did not at the moment
give any further instructions as to the chaplain's departure.

"He wants to know why you have not gone," Lady Kingsbury said to the
clergyman that afternoon.

"Where am I to go to?" whined the unfortunate one. "Does he mean to
say that I am to be turned out into the road at a moment's notice
because I can't approve of what Lady Frances is doing? I haven't had
any orders as to going. If I am to go I suppose he will make some
arrangement first." Lady Kingsbury said what she could to comfort
him, and explained that there was no necessity for his immediate
departure. Perhaps the Marquis might not think of it again for
another week or two; and there was no knowing in what condition they
might find themselves.

Her ladyship's letter to her stepson was as follows; and by return of
post her stepson's answer came;--

MY DEAR HAMPSTEAD,--

Tidings have reached your father that you have engaged
yourself to marry a girl, the daughter of a Quaker named
Fay, living at No. 17, Paradise Row. He, the Quaker, is
represented as being a clerk in a counting-house in the
City. Of the girl your father has heard nothing, but can
only imagine that she should be such as her position would
make probable. He desires me to ask you whether there
is any truth in the statement. You will obs