‘Why did I doubt him?’ she cried, jealous that any soul should have known and trusted him better.  Jealous and I am afraid that the kindling of that one feature of love relighted the fire of her passion thus fervidly.  To be outstripped in generosity was hateful to her.  Rose, naturally, could not reflect that a young creature like herself, fighting against the world, as we call it, has all her faculties at the utmost stretch, and is often betrayed by failing nature when the will is still valiant.

And here she sat-in chains!  ’Yes!  I am fit only to be the wife of an idle brainless man, with money and a title,’ she said, in extreme self-contempt.  She caught a glimpse of her whole life in the horrid tomb of his embrace, and questions whether she could yield her hand to him—­ whether it was right in the eyes of heaven, rushed impetuously to console her, and defied anything in the shape of satisfactory affirmations.  Nevertheless, the end of the struggle was, that she felt that she was bound to Ferdinand.

‘But this I will do,’ said Rose, standing with heat-bright eyes and deep-coloured cheeks before the glass.  ’I will clear his character at Beckley.  I will help him.  I will be his friend.  I will wipe out the injustice I did him.’  And this bride-elect of a lord absolutely added that she was unworthy to be the wife of a tailor!

’He! how unequalled he is!  There is nothing he fears except shame.  Oh! how sad it will be for him to find no woman in his class to understand him and be his helpmate!’

Over, this sad subject, of which we must presume her to be accurately cognizant, Rose brooded heavily.  By mid-day she gave her Grandmother notice that she was going home to Juliana’s funeral.

‘Well, Rose, if you think it necessary to join the ceremony,’ said Lady Elburne.  ’Beckley is bad quarters for you, as you have learnt.  There was never much love between you cousins.’

‘No, and I don’t pretend to it,’ Rose answered.  ’I am sorry poor Juley’s gone.’

’She’s better gone for many reasons—­she appears to have been a little venomous toad,’ said Lady Elburne; and Rose, thinking of a snakelike death-bite working through her blood, rejoined:  ’Yes, she isn’t to be pitied she ‘s better off than most people.’

So it was arranged that Rose should go.  Ferdinand and her aunt, Mrs. Shorne, accompanied her.  Mrs. Shorne gave them their opportunities, albeit they were all stowed together in a carriage, and Ferdinand seemed willing to profit by them; but Rose’s hand was dead, and she sat by her future lord forming the vow on her lips that they should never be touched by him.

Arrived at Beckley, she, to her great delight, found Caroline there, waiting for the funeral.  In a few minutes she got her alone, and after kisses, looked penetratingly into her lovely eyes, shook her head, and said:  ‘Why were you false to me?’

‘False?’ echoed Caroline.