e welcomed in that way, it could only be in preparation of his
becoming one of the family.

And Dorothy herself became aware that she must make up her mind. It
was not so declared to her, but she came to understand that it was
very probable that something would occur on the coming Monday which
would require her to be ready with her answer on that day. And she
was greatly tormented by feeling that if she could not bring herself
to accept Mr. Gibson,--should Mr. Gibson propose to her, as to which
she continued to tell herself that the chance of such a thing must
be very remote indeed,--but that if he should propose to her, and if
she could not accept him, her aunt ought to know that it would be so
before the moment came. But yet she could not bring herself to speak
to her aunt as though any such proposition were possible.

It happened that during the week, on the Saturday, Priscilla came
into Exeter. Dorothy met her sister at the railway station, and then
the two walked together two miles and back along the Crediton Road.
Aunt Stanbury had consented to Priscilla coming to the Close, even
though it was not the day appointed for such visits; but the walk
had been preferred, and Dorothy felt that she would be able to ask
for counsel from the only human being to whom she could have brought
herself to confide the fact that a gentleman was expected to ask her
to marry him. But it was not till they had turned upon their walk,
that she was able to open her mouth on the subject even to her
sister. Priscilla had been very full of their own cares at Nuncombe,
and had said much of her determination to leave the Clock House and
to return to the retirement of some small cottage. She had already
written to Hugh to this effect, and during their walk had said much
of her own folly in having consented to so great a change in their
mode of life. At last Dorothy struck in with her story.

"Aunt Stanbury wants me to make a change too."

"What change?" asked Priscilla anxiously.

"It is not my idea, Priscilla, and I don't think that there can be
anything in it. Indeed, I'm sure there isn't. I don't see how it's
possible that there should be."

"But what is it, Dolly?"

"I suppose there can't be any harm in my telling you."

"If it's anything concerning yourself, I should say not. If it
concerns Aunt Stanbury, I dare say she'd rather you held your
tongue."

"It concerns me most," said Dorothy.

"She doesn't want you to leave her, d