“Attentions!” said John, haughtily.  “I hope Lady Chatterton does not accuse me of improper attentions to her daughter?”

“No, not improper, my son,” said his father:  “on the contrary, she is much pleased with them.”

“She is, is she?  But I am displeased that she should undertake to put constructions on my acts that no attention or words of mine will justify.”

It was now Sir Edward’s turn to be surprised.  He had thought he was doing his son a kindness, when he had only been forwarding the dowager’s schemes; but averse from contention, and wondering at his cousin’s mistake, which he at once attributed to her anxiety in behalf of a favorite daughter, he told John he was sorry there had been any misapprehension, and left him.

“No, no,” said Moseley, internally, as he paced up and down his father’s library, “my lady dowager, you are not going to force a wife down my throat.  If you do, I am mistaken; and Grace, if Grace”—­John softened and began to feel unhappy a little, but anger prevailed.

From the moment Grace Chatterton conceived a dread of her mother’s saying anything to Sir Edward, her whole conduct was altered.  She could hardly look any of the family in the face, and it was her most ardent wish that they might depart.  John she avoided as she would an adder, although it nearly broke her heart to do so.

Mr. Benfield had stayed longer than usual, and he now wished to return.  John Moseley eagerly profited by this opportunity, and the very day after the conversation in the library he went to Benfield Lodge as a dutiful nephew, to see his venerable uncle safely restored once more to the abode of his ancestors.

Lady Chatterton now perceived, when too late, that she had overshot her mark, while, at the same time, she wondered at the reason of a result so strange from such well-digested and well-conducted plans.  She determined, however, never again to interfere between her daughter and the baronet’s heir; concluding, with a nearer approach to the truth than always accompanied her deductions, that they resembled ordinary lovers in neither their temperaments nor opinions.

Perceiving no further use in remaining any longer at the hail, she took her leave, and, accompanied by both her daughters, proceeded to the capital, where she expected to meet her son.

Dr. Ives and his wife returned to the rectory on the same day, and Denbigh immediately resumed his abode under their roof.  The intercourse between the rector’s family and Sir Edward’s was renewed with all its former friendly confidence.

Colonel Egerton began to speak of his departure also, but hinted at intentions of visiting L——­ at the period of the baronet’s visit to his uncle, before he proceeded to town in the winter.

L——­ was a small village on the coast, within a mile of Benfield Lodge; and from its natural convenience, it had long been resorted to by the neighboring gentry for the benefit of sea bathing.  The baronet had promised Mr. Benfield his visit should be made at an earlier day than usual, in order to gratify Jane with a visit to Bath, before they went to London, at which town they were promised by Mrs. Jarvis the pleasure of her society, and that of her son and daughters.