She did not wonder at Algernon’s having found it intolerable, and though angry with him for having made himself such fair game, she set to work to impress upon Maurice his own errors, and the hatefulness of practical jokes, and she succeeded so far as to leave him crying himself to sleep, completely subdued, while she felt as if all the tears ought to have been shed by herself for her want of vigilance.

Conflicting duties! how hard to strike the balance!  She had readily given up her own pleasures for the care of Mrs. Meadows, but when it came to her son’s training, it was another question.

She much wished to see the note with which Mr. Kendal returned the unfortunate sketch, but one of the points on which he was sensitive, was the sacredness of his correspondence, and all that she heard was, that Ulick had answered ’not at all as Mr. Kendal had expected; he was nothing but an Irishman, after all.’  But at last she obtained a sight of the note.

’Bayford, Nov. 20th, 1854. 
’Dear Sir,

’I was much astonished at the contents of your letter of this morning, and greatly concerned that Mr. Cavendish Dusautoy should have done so much honour to any production of mine, as to alter his arrangements on that account.

’As the scrawl in question was not meant to meet the eye of any living being, I should, for my own part, have considered it proper to take no notice of what was betrayed by mere accident.  I should have considered it more conducive to confidence between gentlemen.  I fully acquiesce in what you say of the cessation of our former terms of acquaintance, and with many thanks for past kindness, believe me,

’Your obedient servant,
‘U.  O’MORE.’

Nothing was more evidently written in a passion at the invasion of these private papers, and Albinia, though she had always feared he might consider himself the aggrieved party, had hardly expected so much proud irritation and so little regret.  Mr. Kendal called him ‘foolish boy,’ and tried to put the matter aside, but he was much hurt, and Ulick put himself decidedly in the wrong by passing in the street with a formal bow, when Mr. Kendal, according to his purpose of ordinary civility without an open rupture, would have shaken hands.

Sophy looked white, stern, and cold, but said not a word; she deepened her father’s displeasure quite sufficiently by her countenance.  His was grave disappointment in a youth whom he found less grateful than he thought he had a right to expect; hers was the rankling of what she deemed an insult to her sister, and the festering of a wound of which she was ashamed.  She meant to bear it well, but it made her very hard and rigid, and even the children could hardly extract a smile from her.  She seemed to have made a determination to do all that Lucy or herself had ever done, and more too, and listened to no entreaties to spare herself.  Commands were met with sullen resignation, entreaties were unavailing, and both in the sickroom and the parish, she insisted on working beyond her powers.  It was a nightly battle to send her to bed, and Albinia suspected that she did not sleep.  Meantime Lucy had sailed, and was presently heard of in a whirl of excitement that shortened her letters, and made them joyous and self-important.