“Lady Ushant thinks—­” began the messenger.

“Oh yes, Lady Ushant is very well of course.  Lady Ushant is your aunt, Mr. Morton, and I haven’t anything to say against her.  But Lady Ushant can’t do any good to that girl.  She has got her bread to earn, and if she won’t do it one way then she must do it another.  She’s obstinate and pigheaded, that’s the truth of it.  And her father’s just as bad.  He has taken her out now merely because she likes to be idle, and to go about thinking herself a fine lady.  Lady Ushant doesn’t do her any good at all by cockering her up.”

“My aunt, you know, saw very much of her when she was young.”

“I know she did, Mr. Morton; and all that has to be undone,—­and I have got the undoing of it.  Lady Ushant is one thing and her papa’s business is quite another.  At any rate if I have my say she’ll not go to Cheltenham any more.  I don’t mean to be uncivil to you, Mr. Morton, or to say anything as oughtn’t to be said of your aunt.  But when you can’t make people anything but what they are, it’s my opinion that it’s best to leave them alone.  Good day to you, sir, and I hope you understand what it is that I mean.”

Then Morton retreated and went down the stairs, leaving the lady in possession of her own grandeur.  He had not quite understood what she had meant, and was still wondering at the energy of her opposition. when he met Mary herself at the front door.  Her father was not with her, but his retreating form was to be seen entering the portal of the Bush.  “Oh, Mr. Morton!” exclaimed Mary surprised to have the house-door opened for her by him.

“I have come with a message from my aunt”

“She told me that you would do so.”

“Lady Ushant would of course be delighted to have you if it could be arranged.”

“Then Lady Ushant will be disappointed,” said Mrs. Masters who had descended the stairs.  “There has been something going on behind my back.”

“I wrote to Lady Ushant,” said Mary.

“I call that sly and deceitful;—­very sly and very deceitful.  If I know it you won’t stir out of this house to go to Cheltenham.  I wonder Lady Ushant would go to put you up in that way against those you’re bound to obey.”

“I thought Mrs. Masters had been told,” said Reginald.

“Papa did know that I wrote,” said Mary.

“Yes;—­and in this way a conspiracy is to be made up in the House!  If she goes to Cheltenham I won’t stay here.  You may tell Lady Ushant that I say that.  I’m not going to be one thing one day and another, and to be made a tool of all round.”  By this time Dolly and Kate had cone down from the upper regions and were standing behind their mother.  “What do you two do there, standing gaping like fools,” said the angry mother.  “I suppose your father has gone over to the public-house again.  That, miss, is what comes from your pig headiness.  Didn’t I tell you that you were ruining everybody belonging to you?” Before all this was over Reginald Morton had escaped, feeling that he could do no good to either side by remaining a witness to such a scene.  He must take some other opportunity of finding the attorney and of learning from him whether he intended that his daughter should be allowed to accept Lady Ushant’s invitation.