e were away, Sir
Thomas would be more likely to do something for her." This was an
invention at the spur of the moment.

"Do you not feel that the girls should not be chucked about like
balls from a battledore?" asked Mrs. Dosett.

"For their own good, Margaret. I only propose it for their own good.
You can't but think it would be a good thing for Ayala to be married
to our Tom."

"If she liked him."

"Why shouldn't she like him? You know what that means. Poor Ayala is
young, and a little romantic. She would be a great deal happier if
all that could be knocked out of her. She has to marry somebody, and
the sooner she settles down the better. Sir Thomas will do anything
for them;--a horse and carriage, and anything she could set her heart
upon! There is nothing Sir Thomas would not do for Tom so as to get
him put upon his legs again."

"I don't think Ayala would go."

"She must, you know," whispered Lady Tringle, "if we both tell her."

"And Lucy?"

"She must too," again whispered Lady Tringle. "If they are told they
are to go, what else can they do? Why shouldn't Ayala wish to come?"

"There were quarrels before."

"Yes;--because of Augusta. Augusta is married now." Lady Tringle
could not quite say that Augusta was gone.

"Will you speak to Ayala?"

"Perhaps it would come better from you, Margaret, if you agree with
me."

"I am not sure that I do. I am quite sure that your brother would not
force her to go, whether she wished it or not. No doubt we should be
glad if the marriage could be arranged. But we cannot force a girl to
marry, and her aversion in this case is so strong--"

"Aversion!"

"Aversion to being married, I mean. It is so strong that I do not
think she will go of her own accord to any house where she is likely
to meet her cousin. I dare say she may be a fool. I say nothing about
that. Of course, she shall be asked; and, if she wishes to go, then
Lucy can be asked too. But of course it must all depend upon what
your brother says."

Then Lady Tringle took her leave without again seeing Ayala herself,
and as she went declared her intention of calling at Somerset
House. She would not think it right, she said, in a matter of such
importance, to leave London without consulting her brother. It might
be possible, she thought, that she would be able to talk her brother
over; whereas his wife, if she had the first word, might turn him the
other way.

"Is Aunt Emmeline gone?" asked Ayala, wh