d that Ayala would come to them for a visit. "They quite
understand," said Lucy, "that it will not do to have you and Augusta
together."

This was not at all what Ayala wanted. "It won't at all do to have me
and him together," said Ayala to herself, alluding of course to Tom
Tringle. But why did not Lucy come over to her? Lucy, who knew so
well that her sister did not want to see any one of the Tringles, who
must have been sure that any visit to Queen's Gate must have been
impossible, ought to have come to her. To whom else could she say
a word in her trouble? It was thus that Ayala argued with herself,
declaring to herself that she must soon die in her misery,--unless
indeed that angel of light might come to her assistance very quickly.

But Lucy had troubles of her own in reference to the family at
Queen's Gate, which did, in fact, make it almost impossible to visit
her sister for some weeks. Sir Thomas had given an unwilling but a
frank consent to his son's marriage,--and then expected simply to be
told that it would take place at such and such a time, when money
would be required. Lady Tringle had given her consent,--but not quite
frankly. She still would fain have forbidden the banns, had any power
of forbidding remained in her hands. Augusta was still hot against
the marriage, and still resolute to prevent it. That proposed journey
upstairs after the scrap-book at Glenbogie, that real journey up to
the top of St. Peter's, still rankled in her heart. That Tom should
make Ayala a future baronet's wife; that Tom should endow Ayala with
the greatest share of the Tringle wealth; that Ayala should become
powerful in Queen's Gate, and dominant probably at Merle Park and
Glenbogie,--was wormwood to her. She was conscious that Ayala was
pretty and witty, though she could affect to despise the wit and the
prettiness. By instigating her mother, and by inducing Mr. Traffick
to interfere when Mr. Traffick should be a member of the family,
she thought that she might prevail. With her mother she did in part
prevail. Her future husband was at present too much engaged with
Supply and Demand to be able to give his thoughts to Tom's affairs.
But there would soon be a time when he naturally would be compelled
to divide his thoughts. Then there was Gertrude. Gertrude's own
affairs had not as yet been smiled upon, and the want of smiles she
attributed very much to Augusta. Why should Augusta have her way and
not she, Gertrude, nor he