being quite unable to guess what that something might be.  She was true throughout these days to the simplicity of head-gear which Mr Gibson had recommended to her, and seemed in her questions to her mother and to Camilla to be more fearful of Dorothy Stanbury than of any other enemy.  ‘Mamma, I think you ought to tell her,’ said Camilla more than once.  But she had not been told when Mr Gibson came on the Saturday.  It may truly be said that the poor mother’s pleasure in the prospects of one daughter was altogether destroyed by the anticipation of the other daughter’s misery.  Had Mr Gibson made Dorothy Stanbury his wife they could have all comforted themselves together by the heat of their joint animosity.

He came on the Saturday, and it was so managed that he was closeted with Camilla before Arabella knew that he was in the house.  There was a quarter of an hour during which his work was easy, and perhaps pleasant.  When he began to explain his intention, Camilla, with the utmost frankness, informed him that her mother had told her all about it.  Then she turned her face on one side and put her hand in his; he got his arm round her waist, gave her a kiss, and the thing was done.  Camilla was fully resolved that after such a betrothal it should not be undone.  She had behaved with sisterly forbearance, and would not now lose the reward of virtue.  Not a word was said of Arabella at this interview till he was pressed to come and drink tea with them all that night.  He hesitated a moment; and then Camilla declared, with something perhaps of imperious roughness in her manner, that he had better face it all at once.  ‘Mamma will tell her, and she will understand,’ said Camilla.  He hesitated again, but at last promised that he would come.

Whilst he was yet in the house Mrs French had told the whole story to her poor elder daughter.  ‘What is he doing with Camilla?’ Arabella had asked with feverish excitement.

‘Bella, darling don’t you know?’ said the mother.

’I know nothing.  Everybody keeps me in the dark, and I am badly used.  What is it that he is doing?’ Then Mrs French tried to take the poor young woman in her arms, but Arabella would not submit to be embraced.  ‘Don’t!’ she exclaimed.  ’Leave me alone.  Nobody likes me, or cares a bit about me!  Why is Cammy with him there, all alone?’

‘I suppose he is asking her to be his wife.’  Then Arabella threw herself in despair upon the bed, and wept without any further attempt at control over her feelings.  It was a death-blow to her last hope, and all the world, as she looked upon the world then, was over for her.  ’If I could have arranged it the other way, you know that I would,’ said the mother.

‘Mamma,’ said Arabella jumping up, ’he shan’t do it.  He hasn’t a right.  And as for her Oh, that she should treat me in this way!  Didn’t he tell me the other night, when he drank tea here with me alone—­’

‘What did he tell you, Bella?’