rivals."

"Brothers never think much of their sisters," said Brooke Burgess.

"I can assure you I think a great deal of Dorothy," said Hugh. "I
believe her to be as sweet a woman as God ever made. She hardly knows
that she has a self belonging to herself."

"I am sure she doesn't," said Brooke.

"She is a dear, loving, sweet-tempered creature, who is only too
ready to yield in all things."

"But she wouldn't yield about Gibson," said Brooke.

"How did she and my aunt manage?"

"Your sister simply said she couldn't,--and then that she wouldn't. I
never thought from the first moment that she'd take that fellow. In
the first place he can't say boo to a goose."

"But Dolly wouldn't want a man to say--boo."

"I'm not so sure of that, old fellow. At any rate I mean to try
myself. Now,--what'll the old woman say?"

"She'll be pleased as Punch, I should think," said Stanbury.

"Either that;--or else she'll swear that she'll never speak another
word to either of us. However, I shall go on with it."

"Does Dorothy know anything of this?" asked Stanbury.

"Not a word," said Brooke. "I came away a day or so after Gibson was
settled; and as I had been talked to all through the affair by both
of them, I couldn't turn round and offer myself the moment he was
gone. You won't object;--will you?"

"Who; I?" said Stanbury. "I shall have no objection as long as Dolly
pleases herself. Of course you know that we haven't as much as a
brass farthing among us?"

"That won't matter if the old lady takes it kindly," said Brooke.
Then they parted, at the corner of Lincoln's Inn Fields, and Hugh as
he went up to his own rooms, reflected with something of wonderment
on the success of Dorothy's charms. She had always been the poor one
of the family, the chick out of the nest which would most require
assistance from the stronger birds; but it now appeared that she
would become the first among all the Stanburys. Wealth had first
flowed down upon the Stanbury family from the will of old Brooke
Burgess; and it now seemed probable that poor Dolly would ultimately
have the enjoyment of it all.

CHAPTER L.

CAMILLA TRIUMPHANT.

[Illustration]

It was now New Year's day, and there was some grief and perhaps more
excitement in Exeter,--for it was rumoured that Miss Stanbury lay
very ill at her house in the Close. But in order that our somewhat
uneven story may run as smoothly as it may be made to do, the little
history of