‘T.  G.’

Mrs French was no doubt much afraid of her younger daughter, but she was less afraid of her than were other people.  Familiarity, they say, breeds contempt; and who can be so familiar with a child as its parent?  She did not in her heart believe that Camilla would murder anybody, and she fully realised the conviction that, even after all that was come and gone, it would be better that one of her daughters should have a husband than that neither should be so blessed.  If only Camilla could be got out of Exeter for a few months how good a thing it would be for them all!  She had a brother in Gloucester; if only he could be got to take Camilla for a few months!  And then, too, she knew that if the true rights of her two daughters were strictly and impartially examined, Arabella’s claim was much stronger than any that Camilla could put forward to the hand of Mr Gibson.

‘You must not go there again, Camilla,’ the mother said.

‘I shall go whenever I please,’ replied the fury.

’Now, Camilla, we may as well understand each other.  I will not have it done.  If I am provoked, I will send to your uncle at Gloucester.’  Now the uncle at Gloucester was a timber merchant, a man with protuberant eyes and a great square chin, known to be a very stern man indeed, and not at all afraid of young women.

‘What do I care for my uncle?  My uncle would take my part.’

’No, he would not.  The truth is, Camilla, you interfered with Bella first.’

‘Mamma, how dare you say so!’

‘You did, my dear.  And these are the consequences.’

‘And you mean to say that she is to be Mrs Gibson?’

’I say nothing about that.  But I do not see why they shouldn’t be married if their hearts are inclined to each other.’

‘I will die first!’

‘Your dying has nothing to do with it, Camilla.’

‘And I will kill her!’

’If you speak to me again in that way I will write to your uncle at Gloucester.  I have done the best I could for you both, and I will not bear such treatment.’

‘And how am I treated?’

‘You should not have interfered with your sister.’

‘You are all in a conspiracy together,’ shouted Camilla, ’you are!  There never was anybody so badly treated—­never, never, never!  What will everybody say of me?’

‘They will pity you, if you will be quiet.’

’I don’t want to be pitied—­I won’t be pitied.  I wish I could die; and I will die!  Anybody else would, at any rate, have had their mother and sister with them!’ Then she burst into a flood of real, true, womanly tears.