better than drinking, and smoking, and
gambling. But I dare say he gets enough for that too. When a man,
born and bred like a gentleman, condescends to let out his talents
and education for such purposes, I dare say they are willing enough
to pay him. The devil always does pay high wages. But that only makes
it so much the worse. One almost comes to doubt whether any one ought
to learn to write at all, when it is used for such vile purposes.
I've said what I've got to say, and I don't mean to say anything
more. What's the use? But it has been hard upon me,--very. It was my
money did it, and I feel I've misused it. It's a disgrace to me which
I don't deserve."

For a couple of minutes Dorothy remained quite silent, and Miss
Stanbury did not herself say anything further. Nor during that time
did she observe her niece, or she would probably have seen that the
subject was not to be dropped. Dorothy, though she was silent, was
not calm, and was preparing herself for a crusade in her brother's
defence.

"Aunt Stanbury, he's my brother, you know."

"Of course he's your brother. I wish he were not."

"I think him the best brother in the world,--and the best son."

"Why does he sell himself to write sedition?"

"He doesn't sell himself to write sedition. I don't see why it should
be sedition, or anything wicked, because it's sold for a penny."

"If you are going to cram him down my throat, Dorothy, you and I had
better part."

"I don't want to say anything about him, only you ought--not--to
abuse him--before me." By this time Dorothy was beginning to sob,
but Miss Stanbury's countenance was still very grim and very stern.
"He's coming home to Nuncombe Putney, and I want to--see--see him,"
continued Dorothy.

"Hugh Stanbury coming to Exeter! He won't come here."

"Then I'd rather go home, Aunt Stanbury."

"Very well, very well," said Miss Stanbury, and she got up and left
the room.

Dorothy was in dismay, and began to think that there was nothing for
her to do but to pack up her clothes and prepare for her departure.
She was very sorry for what had occurred, being fully alive to the
importance of the aid not only to herself, but to her mother and
sister, which was afforded by the present arrangement, and she felt
very angry with herself, in that she had already driven her aunt to
quarrel with her. But she had found it to be impossible to hear her
own brother abused without saying a word on his behalf. She did not