st London bonnets. They were in
their mother's room, having just completed the arrangements of their
church-going toilet. It was supposed that the expected letter had
arrived. Mr Longestaffe had certainly received a despatch from his
lawyer, but had not as yet vouchsafed any reference to its contents.
He had been more than ordinarily silent at breakfast, and,--so Sophia
asserted,--more disagreeable than ever. The question had now arisen
especially in reference to their bonnets. 'You might as well wear
them,' said Lady Pomona, 'for I am sure you will not be in London
again this year.'

'You don't mean it, mamma,' said Sophia.

'I do, my dear. He looked like it when he put those papers back into
his pocket. I know what his face means so well.'

'It is not possible,' said Sophia. 'He promised, and he got us to have
those horrid people because he promised.'

'Well, my dear, if your father says that we can't go back, I suppose
we must take his word for it. It is he must decide of course. What he
meant I suppose was, that he would take us back if he could.'

'Mamma!' shouted Georgiana. Was there to be treachery not only on the
part of their natural adversary, who, adversary though he was, had
bound himself to terms by a treaty, but treachery also in their own
camp!

'My dear, what can we do?' said Lady Pomona.

'Do!' Georgiana was now going to speak out plainly. 'Make him
understand that we are not going to be sat upon like that. I'll do
something, if that's going to be the way of it. If he treats me like
that I'll run off with the first man that will take me, let him be who
it may.'

'Don't talk like that, Georgiana, unless you wish to kill me.'

'I'll break his heart for him. He does not care about us not the least
whether we are happy or miserable; but he cares very much about the
family name. I'll tell him that I'm not going to be a slave. I'll
marry a London tradesman before I'll stay down here.' The younger Miss
Longestaffe was lost in passion at the prospect before her.

'Oh, Georgey, don't say such horrid things as that,' pleaded her
sister.

'It's all very well for you, Sophy. You've got George Whitstable.'

'I haven't got George Whitstable.'

'Yes, you have, and your fish is fried. Dolly does just what he
pleases, and spends money as fast as he likes. Of course it makes no
difference to you, mamma, where you are.'

'You are very unjust,' said Lady Pomona, wailing, 'and you say horrid
things.'

'