peace, but could not prevent a burning crimson from spreading
over her face. She went and stood at the window, glad that Miss
Ponsonby had just taken up the newspaper, which she daily read from end
to end, and then posted for Lima.

By and by came a little dry cough, as she went through the
presentations at the levee, and read out 'Viscount Fitzjocelyn, by the
Earl of Ormersfield.'

Mary's mind made an excursion to the dear Yeomanry suit, till her aunt,
having further hunted them out among the Earls and Viscounts summed up
at the end, severely demanded whether she had known of their intention.

'I knew he was to be presented.'

'Quite the young man of fashion. No doubt beginning that course, as if
the estate were not sufficiently impoverished already. I am not
surprised at the report that Lord Ormersfield was very anxious to
secure your fortune for his son.'

This was too much, and Mary exclaimed, 'He never believes in any
fortune that depends on speculation.'

'Oh, so there was nothing in it!' said Miss Ponsonby, who would have
liked the satisfaction of knowing that her niece had refused to be a
Countess, and, while Mary was debating whether her silence were
untruthful, her bent head and glowing cheek betrayed her. 'Ah! my
dear, I will ask no questions; I see you have been annoyed. It always
happens when a girl with expectations goes among needy nobility.'

'You would not say that, if you knew the circumstances,' said Mary,
looking down.

'I won't distress you, my dear; I know you are too wise a girl to be
dazzled with worldly splendours, and that is enough for me.'

The poor old furniture at Ormersfield!

Mary held her tongue, though reproaching herself for cruel injustice to
all that was dearest to her, but how deny her refusal, or explain the
motives.

Not that her aunt wanted any explanation, except her own excellent
training, which had saved her niece from partaking her mother's
infatuation for great people. She had a grand secret to pour into the
bosom of her intimates in some tete-a-tete tea-party by-and-by, and
poor Mary little guessed at the glorification of her prudence which was
flowing from her aunt's well-mended pen, in a long letter to Mr.
Ponsonby. She thought it right that he should be informed, she said,
that their dear Mary had conducted herself according to their fondest
wishes; that the relations, among whom she had unfortunately been
thrown, had formed designs on her fortune,