‘Thank you, I have no interest in the Dorcas Society,’ said Emily; a reply which brought upon her a full account of all its aims and objects; and as still her polite looks spoke nothing of assent, Miss Fitchett went on with a string of other societies, speaking the louder and the more eagerly in the hope of attracting the attention of the young marquis and his sister.  Emily was easily overwhelmed with words, and not thinking it lady-like to claim her money, yet feeling that none of these societies were fit objects for it, she stood confused and irresolute, unwilling either to consent or refuse.  Jane, perceiving her difficulty, turned to Lord Rotherwood, and rousing him from his book, explained Emily’s distress in a few words, and sent him to her rescue.  He stepped forward just as Miss Fitchett, taking silence for consent, was proceeding to thank Emily; ‘I think you misunderstand Miss Mohun,’ said he.  ’Since her subscription is not needed by the person for whom it was intended, she would be glad to have it restored.  She does not wish to encourage any unauthorised societies.’

Boy as he was, in appearance still more than in age, there was a dignity in his manner which, together with the principle on which he spoke, overawed Miss Fitchett even more than his rank.  She only said, ‘Oh! my lord, I beg your pardon.  Certainly, only—­’

The note was placed in Emily’s hands, and with a bow from Lord Rotherwood, she retreated, murmuring to herself the remonstrance which she had not courage to bestow upon the Marquis.

‘Thank you, thank you, Rotherwood,’ said Emily; ’you have done me a great service.’

‘Well done, Rotherwood,’ said Florence; ’you have given the old lady something to reflect upon.’

‘Made a public announcement of principle,’ said Lily.

‘I was determined to give her a reason,’ said the Marquis, laughing, ’but I assure you I felt like the stork with its head in the wolf’s mouth, I thought she would give me a screed of doctrine.  How came you to let your property get unto her clutches, Emily?’

‘It was a subscription for Mrs. Aylmer,’ said Emily.

‘Our curate’s wife!’ cried he with a start; ’how was it?  Florence, did you know anything?  I thought she was in London.  Why were we in the dark?  Tell me all.’

’All I know is that she is living somewhere in Raynham, and last week there was a paper here to say that she was in want of the means of fitting out her son for India.’

‘Yes, yes, Johnny, I know my father did get a promise for him—­well!’

‘That is all I know, except that she does not choose to be a beggar.’

’Poor Mrs. Aylmer! shameful neglect! she shall not be ill-used any longer, I will find her out this instant.  Don’t wait for me.’