I was reading Belinda. Now
the question is, what to do with the letter? It contains advice. May,
Gwen is to secure the Warden! It seems odd to see it written down in
black and white."

Lady Dashwood stared hard at her niece--who stood before her, thoughtful
and silent.

"Shall I give it to Gwen--or what?" she asked.

"Well," began May, and then she stopped.

"Of course, I blame myself for being such a fool as to have taken in
Belinda," said Lady Dashwood (for the hundredth time). "But the question
now is--what to do with the letter? It isn't fit for a nice girl to
read; but, no doubt, she's read scores of letters like it. The girl is
being hawked round to see who will have her--and she knows it! She
probably isn't nice! Girls who are exhibited, or who exhibit themselves
on a tray ain't nice. Jim knows this; he knows it. Oh, May! as if he
didn't know it. You understand!"

May Dashwood stood looking straight into her aunt's face, revolving
thoughts in her own mind.

"Some people, May," said Lady Dashwood, "who want to be unkind and only
succeed in being stupid, say that I am a matchmaker. I _have_ always
conscientiously tried to be a matchmaker, but I have rarely succeeded. I
have been so happy with my dear old husband that I want other people to
be happy too, and I am always bringing young people together--who were
just made for each other. But they won't have it, May! I introduce a
sweet girl full of womanly sense and affection to some nice man, and he
won't have her at any price. He prefers some cheeky little brat who
after marriage treats him rudely and decorates herself for other men. I
introduce a really good man to a really nice girl and she won't have
him, she 'loves,' if you please, a man whom decent men would like to
kick, and she finds herself spending the rest of her life trying hard to
make her life bearable. I dare say your scientists would say--Nature
likes to keep things even, bad and good mixed together. Well, I'm
against Nature. My under-housemaid develops scarlet fever, and dear old
Nature wants her to pass it on to the other maids, and if possible to
the cook. Well, I circumvent Nature."

May Dashwood's face slowly smiled.

"But I did not bring Gwendolen Scott to this house--she was forced upon
me--and I was weak enough to give in. Now, I should very much like to
say something when I give the letter to Gwen. But I shall have to say
nothing. Yes, nothing," repeated Lady Dashwood, "except that