ted, then!' she said, much vexed. 'Oh, Philip!
I did not think you would have married for mere beauty.'

'I can hear no more discussion on this point,' answered Philip, in the
serious, calm tone that showed so much power over himself and every one
else.

It put Margaret to silence, though she was excessively disappointed to
find him thus involved just at his outset, when he might have married
so much more advantageously. She was sorry, too, that she had shown her
opinion so plainly, since it was to be, and hurt his feelings just as
he seemed to be thawing. She would fain have learned more; but he was
completely shut up within himself, and never opened again to her. She
had never before so grated on every delicate feeling in his mind; and
he only remained at her house because in his present state of health,
he hardly knew where to bestow himself till it was time for him to go to
Hollywell.

He went to call on Miss Wellwood, to whom his name was no slight
recommendation, and she met him eagerly, asking after Lady Morville,
who, she said, had twice written to her most kindly about little
Marianne.

It was a very pleasant visit, and a great relief. He looked at the
plans, heard the fresh arrangements, admired, was interested, and took
pleasure in having something to tell Amabel. He asked for Marianne, and
heard that she was one of the best of children--amiable, well-disposed,
only almost too sensitive. Miss Wellwood said it was remarkable how
deep an impression Sir Guy had made upon her, and how affectionately she
remembered his kindness; and her distress at hearing of his death had
been far beyond what such a child could have been supposed to feel, both
in violence and in duration.

Philip asked to see her, knowing it would please Amabel, and in she
came--a long, thin, nine-year-old child, just grown into the encumbering
shyness, that is by no means one of the graces of "la vieillesse de
l'enfance".

He wished to be kind and encouraging; but melancholy, added to his
natural stateliness, made him very formidable; and poor Marianne was
capable of nothing beyond 'yes' or 'no.'

He told her he was going to see Lady Morville and her little girl,
whereat she eagerly raised her eyes, then shrank in affright at anything
so tall, and so unlike Sir Guy. He said the baby was to be christened
next Sunday, and Miss Wellwood helped him out by asking the name.

'Mary,' he said, for he was by no means inclined to explain the Ver