Rachel again became cold and stern, and did not relent at the description of Charlie’s horror and agony; for she was wondering at the audacity of mentioning his grief to the wife of Lady Keith’s brother, and thinking that this weak, indulgent mother was the very person to make a foolish, mischievous son, and it was on her tongue’s end that she did not see to what she was indebted for the favour of such a visit.  Perhaps Mrs. Carleton perceived her resentment, for she broke off, and urgently asked if poor dear Lady Keith had alluded to anything that had passed.  “Yes,” Rachel was is forced to say; and when again pressed as to the manner of alluding, replied, that “she was exceedingly distressed and displeased,” with difficulty refraining from saying who had done all the mischief.  Mrs. Carleton was in no need of hearing it.  “Ah!” she said, “it was right, quite right.  It was very wrong of my poor boy.  Indeed I am not excusing him, but if you only knew how he blames himself.”

“I am sure he ought,” Rachel could not help saying.  Mrs. Carleton here entreated her to listen, and seized her hand, so that there was no escape.  The tale was broken and confused, but there could be little doubt of its correctness.  Poor Bessie had been the bane of young Carleton’s life.  She had never either decidedly accepted or repelled his affection, but, as she had truly said, let him follow her like a little dog, and amused herself with him in the absence of better game.  He was in his father’s office, but her charms disturbed his application to business and kept him trifling among the croquet lawns of Littleworthy, whence his mother never had the resolution to banish her spoilt child.  At last Miss Keith’s refusal of him softened by a half-implied hope, sent him forth to his uncle at Rio, on the promise that if he did his utmost there, he should in three years be enabled to offer Miss Keith more than a competence.  With this hope he had for the first time applied himself to business in earnest, when he received the tidings of her marriage, and like a true spoilt child broke down at once in resolution, capacity, and health, so that his uncle was only too glad to ship him off for England.  And when Lady Keith made her temporary home in her old neighbourhood, the companionship began again, permitted by her in good nature, and almost contempt, and allowed by his family in confidence of the rectitude of both parties; and indeed nothing could be more true than that no harm had been intended.  But it was perilous ground; ladies, however highly principled, cannot leave off self-pleasing habits all at once, and the old terms returned sufficiently to render the barrier but slightly felt.  “When Lady Keith had spoken of her intention of leaving Timber End, the reply had been the old complaint of her brother’s harshness and jealousy of his ardent and lasting affection, and reproof had not at once silenced him.  This it was that had so startled her as to make her hurry to her brother’s side, unheeding of her steps.