ht up to revere.' So, thought
Henrietta, it isn't about love this time; it's only about the Church.
'He ought not to say things before my guests as to our way of
believing, which I wouldn't under any circumstances say as to his. I
didn't quite like your hearing it.'

'I don't think he'll do me any harm. I'm not at all that way given. I
suppose they all do it. It's their business.'

'Poor fellow! I brought him here just because I thought it was a pity
that a man born and bred like a gentleman should never see the inside
of a comfortable house.'

'I liked him;--only I didn't like his saying stupid things about the
bishop.'

'And I like him.' Then there was a pause. 'I suppose your brother does
not talk to you much about his own affairs.'

'His own affairs, Roger? Do you mean money? He never says a word to me
about money.'

'I meant about the Melmottes.'

'No; not to me. Felix hardly ever speaks to me about anything.'

'I wonder whether she has accepted him.'

'I think she very nearly did accept him in London.'

'I can't quite sympathise with your mother in all her feelings about
this marriage, because I do not think that I recognise as she does the
necessity of money.'

'Felix is so disposed to be extravagant.'

'Well; yes. But I was going to say that though I cannot bring myself
to say anything to encourage her about this heiress, I quite recognise
her unselfish devotion to his interests.'

'Mamma thinks more of him than of anything,' said Hetta, not in the
least intending to accuse her mother of indifference to herself.

'I know it; and though I happen to think myself that her other child
would better repay her devotion,'--this he said, looking up to Hetta
and smiling,--'I quite feel how good a mother she is to Felix. You know,
when she first came the other day we almost had a quarrel.'

'I felt that there was something unpleasant.'

'And then Felix coming after his time put me out. I am getting old and
cross, or I should not mind such things.'

'I think you are so good and so kind.' As she said this she leaned
upon his arm almost as though she meant to tell him that she loved
him.

'I have been angry with myself,' he said, 'and so I am making you my
father confessor. Open confession is good for the soul sometimes, and
I think that you would understand me better than your mother.'

'I do understand you; but don't think there is any fault to confess.'

'You will not exact any penance?' She only