about that, mamma. I hope you will never talk of him
any more.'

'He is quite unworthy,' said Lady Carbury.

'I can't bear to--have him--abused,' said Hetta sobbing.

'My dear Hetta, I have no doubt this has made you for the time
unhappy. Such little accidents do make people unhappy--for the time.
But it will be much for the best that you should endeavour not to be
so sensitive about it. The world is too rough and too hard for people
to allow their feelings full play. You have to look out for the
future, and you can best do so by resolving that Paul Montague shall
be forgotten at once.'

'Oh, mamma, don't. How is a person to resolve? Oh, mamma, don't say
any more.'

'But, my dear, there is more that I must say. Your future life is
before you, and I must think of it, and you must think of it. Of
course you must be married.'

'There is no of course at all.'

'Of course you must be married,' continued Lady Carbury, 'and of
course it is your duty to think of the way in which this may be best
done. My income is becoming less and less every day. I already owe
money to your cousin, and I owe money to Mr Broune.'

'Money to Mr Broune!'

'Yes,--to Mr Broune. I had to pay a sum for Felix which Mr Broune told
me ought to be paid. And I owe money to tradesmen. I fear that I shall
not be able to keep on this house. And they tell me,--your cousin and
Mr Broune,--that it is my duty to take Felix out of London probably
abroad.'

'Of course I shall go with you.'

'It may be so at first; but, perhaps, even that may not be necessary.
Why should you? What pleasure could you have in it? Think what my life
must be with Felix in some French or German town!'

'Mamma, why don't you let me be a comfort to you? Why do you speak of
me always as though I were a burden?'

'Everybody is a burden to other people. It is the way of life. But
you,--if you will only yield in ever so little,--you may go where you
will be no burden, where you will be accepted simply as a blessing. You
have the opportunity of securing comfort for your whole life, and of
making a friend, not only for yourself, but for me and your brother,
of one whose friendship we cannot fail to want.'

'Mamma, you cannot really mean to talk about that now?'

'Why should I not mean it? What is the use of indulging in high-flown
nonsense? Make up your mind to be the wife of your cousin Roger.'

'This is horrid,' said Hetta, bursting out in her agony. 'Cannot you
underst