st part of a month to think of it all, before Felix
should reappear upon the scene. But then she could not think of it
by herself in silence. Her father had desired her to tell her mother
what had passed, and she felt that a great difficulty still lay
before her. She knew that her mother did not wish her to marry Felix
Graham. She knew that her mother did wish her to marry Peregrine
Orme. And therefore though no mother and child had ever treated each
other with a sweeter confidence, or loved each other with warmer
hearts, there was as it were a matter of disunion between them. But
nevertheless she must tell her mother, and the dread of this telling
weighed heavy upon her as she sat that night in the drawing-room
reading the article which Felix had written.

But she need not have been under any alarm. Her father, when he told
her to discuss the matter with her mother, had by no means intended
to throw on her shoulders the burden of converting Lady Staveley to
the Graham interest. He took care to do this himself effectually, so
that in fact there should be no burden left for Madeline's shoulders.
"Well, my dear," he said that same Sunday evening to his wife, "I
have had it all out with Madeline this afternoon."

"About Mr. Graham, do you mean?"

"Yes; about Mr. Graham. I have promised that he shall come here for
the assize week."

"Oh, dear!"

"It's done, my love; and I believe we shall find it all for the
best. The bishops' daughters always marry clergymen, and the judges'
daughters ought to marry lawyers."

"But you can't give him a practice. The bishops have livings to give
away."

"Perhaps I may show him how to make a practice for himself, which
would be better. Take my word for it that it will be best for her
happiness. You would not have liked to be disappointed yourself, when
you made up your mind to be married."

"No, I should not," said Lady Staveley.

"And she will have a will of her own quite as strong as you had." And
then there was silence in the room for some time.

"You'll be kind to him when he comes?" said the judge.

"Oh, yes," said Lady Staveley, in a voice that was by no means devoid
of melancholy.

"Nobody can be so kind as you when you please. And as it is to be--"

"I always did like him," said Lady Staveley, "although he is so very
plain."

"You'll soon get used to that, my dear."

"And as for poor young Mr. Orme--"

"As for poor young Mr. Orme, as you call him, he will not di