her of Hugh Stanbury. Let the cure come, if it might
be possible, from absence and from her daughter's good sense. The
only question was whether it would be wise to say any word about Mr.
Glascock. In the carriage she was not only forbearing but flattering
in her manner to Nora. She caressed her girl's hand and spoke to
her,--as mothers know how to speak when they want to make much of
their girls, and to have it understood that those girls are behaving
as girls should behave. There was to be nobody to meet them to-night,
as it had been arranged that Sir Marmaduke and Mrs. Trevelyan should
sleep at Siena. Hardly a word had been spoken in the carriage; but
up-stairs, in their drawing-room, there came a moment in which Lucy
and Sophie had left them, and Nora was alone with her mother. Lady
Rowley almost knew that it would be most prudent to be silent;--but a
word spoken in season;--how good it is! And the thing was so near to
her that she could not hold her peace. "I must say, Nora," she began,
"that I do like your Mr. Glascock."

"He is not my Mr. Glascock, mamma," said Nora, smiling.

"You know what I mean, dear." Lady Rowley had not intended to utter a
word that should appear like pressure on her daughter at this moment.
She had felt how imprudent it would be to do so. But now Nora seemed
to be leading the way herself to such discourse. "Of course, he is
not your Mr. Glascock. You cannot eat your cake and have it, nor can
you throw it away and have it."

"I have thrown my cake away altogether, and certainly I cannot have
it." She was still smiling as she spoke, and seemed to be quite merry
at the idea of regarding Mr. Glascock as the cake which she had
declined to eat.

"I can see one thing quite plainly, dear."

"What is that, mamma?"

"That in spite of what you have done, you can still have your cake
whenever you choose to take it."

"Why, mamma, he is engaged to be married!"

"Mr. Glascock?"

"Yes, Mr. Glascock. It's quite settled. Is it not sad?"

"To whom is he engaged?" Lady Rowley's solemnity as she asked this
question was piteous to behold.

"To Miss Spalding,--Caroline Spalding."

"The eldest of those nieces?"

"Yes;--the eldest."

"I cannot believe it."

"Mamma, they both told me so. I have sworn an eternal friendship with
her already."

"I did not see you speaking to her."

"But I did talk to her a great deal."

"And he is really going to marry that dreadful woman?"

"Dreadful, mamm