a man who has
got a care off his mind.

'I forgot to say, Doctor Bryerly--it was very rude--that you must stay here
to-night.'

'He _can't_, my dear,' interposed Lady Knolly's; 'it is a long way.'

'He will dine. Won't you, Doctor Bryerly?'

'No; he can't. You know you can't, sir,' said my cousin, peremptorily. 'You
must not worry him, my dear, with civilities he can't accept. He'll bid us
good-bye this moment. Good-bye, Doctor Bryerly. You'll write immediately;
don't wait till you reach town. Bid him good-bye, Maud. I'll say a word to
you in the hall.'

And thus she literally hurried him out of the room, leaving me in a state
of amazement and confusion, not able to review my decision--unsatisfied,
but still unable to recall it.

I stood where they had left me, looking after them, I suppose, like a fool.

Lady Knollys returned in a few minutes. If I had been a little cooler I was
shrewd enough to perceive that she had sent poor Doctor Bryerly away upon
his travels, to find board and lodging half-way to Bartram, to remove
him forthwith from my presence, and thus to make my decision--if mine it
was--irrevocable.

'I applaud you, my dear,' said Cousin Knollys, in her turn embracing me
heartily. 'You are a sensible little darling, and have done exactly what
you ought to have done.'

'I hope I have,' I faltered.

'Hope? fiddle! stuff! the thing's as plain as a pikestaff.'

And in came Branston to say that dinner was served.

CHAPTER XXIX

_HOW THE AMBASSADOR FARED_

Lady Knollys, I could plainly see, when we got into the brighter lights at
the dinner table, was herself a good deal excited; she was relieved
and glad, and was garrulous during our meal, and told me all her early
recollections of dear papa. Most of them I had heard before; but they could
not be told too often.

Notwithstanding my mind sometimes wandered, _often_ indeed, to the
conference so unexpected, so suddenly decisive, possibly so momentous; and
with a dismayed uncertainly, the question--had I done right?--was always
before me.

I dare say my cousin understood my character better, perhaps, after all my
honest self-study, then I do even now. Irresolute, suddenly reversing my
own decisions, impetuous in action as she knew me, she feared, I am sure,
a revocation of my commission to Doctor Bryerly, and thought of the
countermand I might send galloping after him.

So, kind creature, she laboured to occupy my thoughts, and when one