s
you have some very particular reason."

"Well, mother, I have a particular reason. But if you had rather that
she did not come here, I will go to Littlebath instead."

There was nothing more said on this occasion; but that was the
beginning of the battle. Mrs. Wilkinson could not but know what her
son meant; and she now knew that all that she dreaded was to come
upon her. It was not that she did not wish to see her son happy, or
that she did not think that his being married and settled would tend
to his happiness; but she was angry, as other mothers are angry, when
their foolish, calf-like boys will go and marry without any incomes
on which to support a wife. She said to herself over and over again
that night, "I cannot have a second family here in the parsonage;
that's certain. And where on earth they're to live, I don't know;
and how they're to live when his fellowship is gone, I can't think."
And then she shook her head, clothed as it was in her night-cap,
and reposing as it was on her pillow. "Two thousand pounds is every
shilling she has--every shilling." And then she shook her head again.
She knew that the ecclesiastical income was her own; for had not the
good Lord Stapledean given it to her? But she had sad thoughts, and
feared that even on this point there might be a contest between her
and her son.

Two mornings after this the blow came very suddenly. It was now her
habit to go into the book-room after breakfast, and set herself down
to, work--as her husband, the former vicar, had done in his time--and
as Arthur, since his return, usually did the same, they naturally
found themselves alone together. On the morning in question, she had
no sooner seated herself, with her papers before her, than Arthur
began. And, alas! he had to tell her, not what he was going to do,
but what he had done.

"I spoke to you, mother, of going to Littlebath the other day."

"Yes, Arthur," said she, taking her spectacles off, and laying them
beside her.

"I have written to her, instead."

"And you have made her an offer of marriage!"

"Exactly so. I was sure you must have known how my heart stood
towards her. It is many years now since I first thought of this; but
I was deterred, because I feared that my income--our income, that
is--was insufficient."

"Oh, Arthur, and so it is. What will you do? How will you live? Adela
has got just two thousand pounds--about seventy or eighty pounds a
year. And your fellowship will b