After that the discussion ceased between them for awhile, and Miss Stanbury left the room that she might hold a consultation with Martha.  Dorothy went up to her chamber, and saw that everything had been prepared for her with most scrupulous care.  Nothing could be whiter, neater, cleaner, nicer than was everything that surrounded her.  She had perceived while living under her aunt’s roof, how, gradually, small delicate feminine comforts had been increased for her.  Martha had been told that Miss Dorothy ought to have this, and that Miss Dorothy ought to have that; till at last she, who had hitherto known nothing of the small luxuries that come from an easy income, had felt ashamed of the prettinesses that had been added to her.  Now she could see at once that infinite care had been used to make her room bright and smiling only in the hope that she would return.  As soon as she saw it all, she sat down on her bed and burst out into tears.  Was it not hard upon her that she should be forced into such ingratitude!  Every comfort prepared for her was a coal of hot fire upon her head.  And yet, what had she done that she ought not to have done?  Was it unreasonable that she should have loved this man, when they two were brought together?  And had she even dared to think of him otherwise than as an acquaintance till he had compelled her to confess her love?  And after that had she not tried to separate herself from him, so that they two, her aunt and her lover, might be divided by no quarrel?  Had not Priscilla told her that she was right in all that she was doing?  Nevertheless, in spite of all this, she could not refrain from accusing herself of ingratitude towards her aunt.  And she began to think it would have been better for her now to have remained at home, and have allowed Brooke to come alone to Exeter than to have obeyed the impulse which had arisen from the receipt of her aunt’s letter.  When she went down again she found herself alone in the room, and she was beginning to think that it was intended that she should go to bed without again seeing her aunt; but at last Miss Stanbury came to her, with a sad countenance, but without that look of wrath which Dorothy knew so well.  ‘My dear,’ she said, ’it will be better that Mr Burgess should go up to London tomorrow.  I will see him, of course, if he chooses to come, and Martha shall meet him at the station and explain it.  If you do not mind, I would prefer that you should not meet him here.’

‘I meant only to stay one night, aunt.’

’That is nonsense.  If I am to part with either of you, I will part with him.  You are dearer to me than he is.  Dorothy, you do not know how dear to me you are.’

Dorothy immediately fell on her knees at her aunt’s feet, and hid her face in her aunt’s lap.  Miss Stanbury twined round her fingers the soft hair, which she loved so well because it was a grace given by God and not bought out of a shop, and caressed the girl’s head, and muttered something that was intended for a prayer.  ’If he will let me, aunt, I will give him up,’ said Dorothy, looking up into her aunt’s face.  ’If he will say that I may, though I shall love him always, he may go.’