Clara, when she got to her own room, was very serious and very sad.  What was to be the end of it all?  This had been her first meeting after her father’s death with the man whom she had promised to marry; indeed, it was the first meeting after her promise had been given; and they had only met to quarrel.  There had been no word of love spoken between them.  She had parted from him now almost in anger, without the slightest expression of confidence between them almost as those part who are constrained by circumstances to be together, but who yet hate each other and know that they hate each other.  Was there in truth any love between him and her?  And if there was none, could there be any advantage, any good either to him or to her, in this journey of hers to Aylmer Park?  Would it not be better that she should send for him and tell him that they were not suited for each other, and that thus she should escape from all the terrors of Lady Aylmer?  As she thought of this, she could not but think of Will Belton also.  Not a gentleman!  If Will Belton was not a gentleman, she desired to know nothing further of gentlemen.  Women are so good and kind that those whom they love they love almost the more when they commit offences, because of the offences so committed.  Will Belton had been guilty of great offences of offences for which Clara was pre. pared to lecture him in the gravest manner should opportunities for such lectures ever come but I think that they had increased her regard for him rather than diminished it.  She could not, however, make up her mind to send for Captain Aylmer, and when she went to bed she had resolved that the visit to Yorkshire must be made.

Before she left the room the following morning, a letter was brought to her from her cousin, which had been written that morning.  She asked the maid to inquire for him, and sent down word to him that if he were in the house she specially wished to see him; but the tidings came from the hall porter that he had gone out very early, and had expressly said that he should not breakfast at the inn.

The letter was as follows: 

’Dear Clara,

I meant to have handed to you the enclosed in person, but I lost my temper last night like a fool as I am and so I couldn’t do it.  You need not have any scruple about the money which I send œ100 in ten ten-pound notes as it is your own.  There is the rent due up to your father’s death, which is more than what I now enclose, and there will be a great many other items, as to all of which you shall have a proper account.  When you want more, you had better draw on me, till things are settled.  It shall all be done as soon as possible.  It would not be comfortable for you to go away without money of your own, and I suppose you would not wish that he should pay for your journeys and things before you are married.

Of course I made a fool of myself yesterday.  I believe that I usually do.  It is not any good my begging your pardon, for I don’t suppose I shall ever trouble you any more.  Good-bye, and God bless you.