But young Gresham had also met another lady in London, namely Miss Dunstable.  Mary would indeed have been grateful to Miss Dunstable, could she have known all that lady did for her.  Frank’s love was never allowed to flag.  When he spoke of the difficulties in his way, she twitted him by being overcome by straws; and told him that no one was ever worth having who was afraid of every lion he met in his path.  When he spoke of money, she bade him earn it; and always ended by offering to smooth for him any real difficulty which want of means might put in his way.

‘No,’ Frank used to say to himself, when these offers were made, ’I never intended to take her and her money together; and, therefore, I certainly will never take the money alone.’

A day or two after Miss Oriel’s visit, Mary received the following note from Beatrice.

’Dearest, dearest Mary,

’I shall be so happy to see you, and will come to-morrow at twelve.  I have asked mamma, and she says that, for once, she has no objection.  You know it is not my fault that I have never been with you; don’t you?  Frank comes home on the twelfth.  Mr Oriel wants the wedding to be on the first of September; but that seems to be so very, very soon; doesn’t it?  However, mamma and papa are all on his side.  I won’t write about this, though, for we shall have such a delicious talk.  Oh, Mary!  I have been so unhappy without you.

’Ever your own affectionate,
Trichy’

Though Mary was delighted at the idea of once more having her friend in her arms, there was, nevertheless, something in the letter which oppressed her.  She could not put up with the idea that Beatrice should have permission given to come to her—­just for once.  She hardly wished to be seen by permission.  Nevertheless, she did not refuse the proffered visit, and the first sight of Beatrice’s face, the first touch of the first embrace, dissipated for the moment her anger.

And then Beatrice fully enjoyed the delicious talk which she had promised herself.  Mary let her have her way, and for two hours all the delights and all the duties, all the comforts and all the responsibilities of a parson’s wife were discussed with almost equal ardour on both sides.  The duties and responsibilities were not exactly those which too often fall to the lot of the mistress of an English vicarage.  Beatrice was not doomed to make her husband comfortable, to educate her children, dress herself like a lady, and exercise open-handed charity on an income of two hundred pounds a year.  Her duties and responsibilities would have to spread themselves over seven or eight times that amount of worldly burden.  Living also close to Greshamsbury, and not far from Courcy Castle, she would have the full advantage and all the privileges of county society.  In fact, it was all couleur de rose, and so she chatted deliciously with her friend.

But it was impossible that they should separate without something having been said as to Mary’s own lot.  It would, perhaps, have been better that they should do so; but this was hardly within the compass of human nature.