ld anything be so wicked as marrying a woman
whom he--hated? Thus he tried to excuse himself; but yet he knew that
all the world would condemn him. Life in Exeter would be impossible,
if no way to social pardon could be opened for him. He was willing to
do anything within bounds in mitigation of his offence. He would give
up fifty pounds a year to Camilla for his life,--or he would marry
Bella. Yes; he would marry Bella at once,--if Camilla would only
consent, and give up that idea of stabbing some one. Bella French
was not very nice in his eyes; but she was quiet, he thought, and it
might be possible to live with her. Nevertheless, he told himself
over and over again that the manner in which unmarried men with
incomes were set upon by ladies in want of husbands was very
disgraceful to the country at large. That mission to Natal which had
once been offered to him would have had charms for him now, of which
he had not recognised the force when he rejected it.

"Do you think that he ever was really engaged to her?" Dorothy said
to her aunt. Dorothy was now living in a seventh heaven of happiness,
writing love-letters to Brooke Burgess every other day, and devoting
to this occupation a number of hours of which she ought to have
been ashamed; making her purchases for her wedding,--with nothing,
however, of the magnificence of a Camilla,--but discussing everything
with her aunt, who urged her on to extravagances which seemed beyond
the scope of her own economical ideas; settling, or trying to settle,
little difficulties which perplexed her somewhat, and wondering
at her own career. She could not of course be married without the
presence of her mother and sister, and her aunt,--with something of
a grim courtesy,--had intimated that they should be made welcome to
the house in the Close for the special occasion. But nothing had been
said about Hugh. The wedding was to be in the Cathedral, and Dorothy
had a little scheme in her head for meeting her brother among the
aisles. He would no doubt come down with Brooke, and nothing perhaps
need be said about it to Aunt Stanbury. But still it was a trouble.
Her aunt had been so good that Dorothy felt that no step should be
taken which would vex the old woman. It was evident enough that
when permission had been given for the visit of Mrs. Stanbury and
Priscilla, Hugh's name had been purposely kept back. There had been
no accidental omission. Dorothy, therefore, did not dare to mention