hen he entered, and
Emily was engaged with a bald-headed old gentleman with a little
ribbon and a star. The bald-headed old gentleman soon departed,
and then Cousin George, in some skilfully indirect way, took an
opportunity of letting Emily know that he should not go to Goodwood
this July.

"Not go to Goodwood?" said she, pretending to laugh. "It will be most
unnatural, will it not? They'll hardly start the horses without you,
I should think."

"They'll have to start them without me, at any rate." Of course she
understood what he meant, and understood also why he had told her.
But if his promise were true, so much good had been done,--and she
sincerely believed that it was true. In what way could he make love
to her better than by refraining from his evil ways for the sake of
pleasing her? Other bald-headed old gentlemen and bewigged old ladies
came in, and he had not time for another word. He bade her adieu,
saying nothing now of his hope of meeting her in the autumn, and was
very affectionate in his farewell to Lady Elizabeth. "I don't suppose
I shall see Sir Harry before he starts. Say 'good-bye' for me."

"I will, George."

"I am so sorry you are going. It has been so jolly, coming in here
of a Sunday, Lady Elizabeth, and you have been so good to me. I wish
Scarrowby was at the bottom of the sea."

"Sir Harry wouldn't like that at all."

"I dare say not. And as such places must be, I suppose they ought to
be looked after. Only why in June? Good-bye! We shall meet again some
day." But not a word was said about Humblethwaite in September. He
did not choose to mention the prospect of his autumn visit, and she
did not dare to do so. Sir Harry had not renewed the offer, and she
would not venture to do so in Sir Harry's absence.

June passed away,--as Junes do pass in London,--very gaily in
appearance, very quickly in reality, with a huge outlay of money and
an enormous amount of disappointment. Young ladies would not accept,
and young men would not propose. Papas became cross and stingy, and
mammas insinuated that daughters were misbehaving. The daughters
fought their own battles, and became tired in the fighting of them,
and many a one had declared to herself before July had come to an end
that it was all vanity and vexation of spirit.

The Altringhams always went to Goodwood,--husband and wife. Goodwood
and Ascot for Lady Altringham were festivals quite as sacred as were
Epsom and Newmarket for the Earl. Sh