sked for it back again."

"I expect I shall have to return it now, as I think my uncle has some
views as to its disposal, and may inquire for it."

"He always has chimeras of that sort. I say, Kate, how perilously plain
Geraldine has grown up."

"You discern the finger of Fate there. She has, indeed. I wonder she is
not ashamed of herself."

"Speak not thus harshly of a misfortune."

"It's just as much a fault. Do you think _I'd_ submit to be plain? Never.
Give me only one good feature, I'd pose up to it, and make it beautify
the rest. Large goggle eyes like hers might be thrown up with a heavenly
expression--so--(but I am afraid mine are rather earthly). A bad figure
even could be rectified. She need not indulge much in the poetry of
motion. _I_ am not pretty, but I dare say you never found it out. No, you
haven't, so you needn't assume that look of regretful dissent; and I
repeat, that any girl so spiritless as to give in to being ugly
_deserves_ to be left out in the cold."

"That, my dear, you can never be. You carry brimstone enough to set every
one in flames about you. But to return to our--sheep. Don't say, Kate, I
am expected to range alongside such a figure-head as that!"

"She will have a very valuable consignment of--timber, however, when she
comes into Forest Hill."

"Which adjoins 'The Towers!' The Avuncular will be death on it! What an
unfortunate idea to take up!"

"Can't you do it?" asked the girl, looking askance.

"I don't want to offend his Lordship. I'd ride for a _fall_. Any chance
of a refusal, Kate?"

"That wouldn't satisfy him. He thinks a man ought never to be beat; and
that

'It isn't so much the gallant who woos
As the gallant's way of wooing.'

But I do hope, Harry, you won't have to marry Geraldine. Fancy _her_
mistress of 'The Towers!'--no go!--no fun! and she would collect the
stupidest people in the county."

"What a brilliant little chatelaine some one else would make!" quoth
wicked Harry.

A glance--one of Kate's own--which few men could stand and feel perfectly
cool. With all her flirtations,--and at present she was most in love with
Colonel Dashwood,--she never forgot that if bereaved of their uncle by an
opportune fit of the gout, few better matches could fall in her way than
cousin Harry; so that a little quiet love-making with him was a useful
investment in view of such a contingency; though, of course, she could
not wait, if this dear uncle, as, indeed, wa