r his not writing,
she was aware that Lord Cashel had recommended that, till she was of
age, they should not correspond. As she thought the matter over in
her own room, long hour after hour, she became angry with herself for
having been talked into a feeling of anger for him. What right had she
to be angry because he kept horses? She could not expect him to put
himself into Lord Cashel's leading-strings. Indeed, she thought she
would have liked him less if he had done so. And now, to reject him
just when circumstances put it in her power to enable her to free
him from his embarrassments, and live a manner becoming his station!
What must Frank think of her?--For he could not but suppose that her
rejection had been caused by her unexpected inheritance.

In the course of the fortnight, she made up her mind that all Lord
Cashel had said to Lord Ballindine should be unsaid;--but who was to do
it? It would be a most unpleasant task to perform; and one which, she
was aware, her guardian would be most unwilling to undertake. She fully
resolved that she would do it herself, if she could find no fitting
ambassador to undertake the task, though that would be a step to which
she would fain not be driven. At one time, she absolutely thought of
asking her cousin, Kilcullen, about it:--this was just before his
leaving Grey Abbey; he seemed so much more civil and kind than usual.
But then, she knew so little of him, and so little liked what she did
know: that scheme, therefore, was given up. Lady Selina was so cold,
and prudent--would talk to her so much about propriety, self-respect,
and self-control, that she could not make a confidante of her. No one
could talk to Selina on any subject more immediately interesting than a
Roman Emperor, or a pattern for worsted-work. Fanny felt that she would
not be equal, herself, to going boldly to Lord Cashel, and desiring him
to inform Lord Ballindine that he had been mistaken in the view he had
taken of his ward's wishes: no--that was impossible; such a proceeding
would probably bring on a fit of apoplexy.

There was no one else to whom she could apply, but her aunt. Lady
Cashel was a very good-natured old woman, who slept the greatest
portion of her time, and knitted through the rest of her existence. She
did not take a prominent part in any of the important doings of Grey
Abbey; and, though Lord Cashel constantly referred to her, for he
thought it respectable to do so, no one regarded her muc