ved to her, and some other fellow, some happier man who had
never been exposed to such a fate as had fallen upon him, some smug
Pharisee (this fling at the supposed rival of the future was very natural
and harmed nobody) had cut him out of all place in her heart! It was so
likely that Chatty would go on waiting for him, thinking of him, for
years perhaps, the coxcomb that he was!

"I said very suddenly that we must go home," said Mrs. Warrender, after
he had left them. "You did not think me hard, Chatty? It seemed to me
the best."

"Oh no, mamma," said Chatty, with a slight faltering.

"We have seen a great deal of Mr. Cavendish, and he has been very nice,
but I did not like the idea of going to the Isle of Wight."

"Oh no, mamma," Chatty repeated, with more firmness. "I did not wish it
at all."

"I am very glad you think with me, my dear. He has been very nice; he
has made us enjoy our time in town much more than we should have done.
But of course, that cannot last for ever, and I do really think now that
we should go home."

"I have always thought so," said Chatty. She was rather pale, and there
was a sort of new-born dignity about her, with which her mother felt
that she was unacquainted. "It has been very pleasant, but I am quite
ready. And then Minnie will be coming back as you said."

"Yes." Then Mrs. Warrender burst into a laugh which might as well have
been a fit of crying. "But you must prepare yourself to see not Minnie,
but the Eustace Thynnes," she said. And then the mother and daughter
kissed each other and retired to their respective rooms, where Chatty
was a long time going to bed. She sat and thought, with her pretty hair
about her shoulders, going over a great many things, recalling a great
many simple little scenes and words said,--which were but words after
all,--and then of a sudden the tears came, and she sat and cried very
quietly, even in her solitude making as little fuss as possible, with an
ache of wonder at the trouble that had come upon her, and a keen pang of
shame at the thought that she had expected more than was coming, more
perhaps than had ever been intended. A man is not ashamed of loving when
he is not loved, however angry he may be with himself or the woman who
has beguiled him; but the sharpest smart in a girl's heart is the shame
of having given what was not asked for, what was not wanted. When those
tears had relieved her heart, Chatty put up her hair very neatly for the
n