have her again at Stalham, everything may be made to
go right."

* * * * * *

At home, in Kingsbury Crescent, when Ayala had gone to bed, both
Mr. and Mrs. Dosett expressed themselves as much troubled by the
peculiarity of Ayala's nature. Mrs. Dosett declared her conviction
that that promised legacy from Uncle Tom would never be forthcoming,
because he had been so much offended by the rejection of his own son.
And even should the legacy remain written in Sir Thomas's will, where
would Ayala find a home if Mr. Dosett were to die before the baronet?
This rejection of suitors,--of fit, well-to-do, unobjectionable
suitors,--was held by Mrs. Dosett to be very wicked, and a direct
flying in the face of Providence. "Does she think," said Mrs. Dosett,
urging the matter with all her eloquence to her husband, "that young
men with incomes are to be coming after her always like this?" Mr.
Dosett shook his head and scratched it at the same time, which was
always a sign with him that he was not at all convinced by the
arguments used, but that he did not wish to incur further hostility
by answering them. "Why shouldn't she see an eligible man when he
comes recommended like this?"

"I suppose, my dear, she didn't think him nice enough."

"Nice! pshaw! I call it a direct flying in the face of Providence. If
he were ever so nasty and twice as old she ought to think twice about
it in her position. There is poor Tom, they say, absolutely ill. The
housekeeper was over here from Queen's Gate the other day, and she
declares that that affair about the policeman all came from his being
in love. And now he has left the business and has gone to Merle Park,
because he is so knocked in a heap that he cannot hold up his head."

"I don't see why love should make a man punch a policeman's breath
out of him," said Mr. Dosett.

"Of course Tom was foolish; but he would do very well if she would
have him. Of course your sister, and Sir Thomas, and all of them,
will be very furious. What right will she have to expect money after
that?"

"Tom is an ass," said Mr. Dosett.

"I suppose Colonel Stubbs is an ass too. What I want to know is what
it is she looks for. Like any other girl, she expects to get married
some day, I suppose; but she has been reading poetry, and novels, and
trash, till she has got her head so full of nonsense that she doesn't
know what it is she does want. I should like to shake her till I
sho