at a thing should happen
which, of all things in the world, would be the best for both of
you."

"But the thing won't happen, and therefore let there be an end of it.
I hate the twaddle talk of love, whether it's about myself or about
any one else. It makes me feel ashamed of my sex, when I find that
I cannot talk of myself to another woman without being supposed to
be either in love or thinking of love,--either looking for it or
avoiding it. When it comes, if it comes prosperously, it's a very
good thing. But I for one can do without it, and I feel myself
injured when such a state of things is presumed to be impossible."

"It is worth any one's while to irritate you, because your
indignation is so beautiful."

"It is not beautiful to me; for I always feel ashamed afterwards of
my own energy. And now, if you please, we won't say anything more
about Mr. Will Belton."

"May I not talk about him, even as the enterprising cousin?"

"Certainly; and in any other light you please. Do you know he seemed
to think that he had known you ever so many years ago." Clara, as
she said this, did not look direct at her friend's face; but still
she could perceive that Mrs. Askerton was disconcerted. There came a
shade of paleness over her face, and a look of trouble on her brow,
and for a moment or two she made no reply.

"Did he?" she then said. "And when was that?"

"I suppose it was in London. But, after all, I believe it was not
you, but somebody whom he remembers to have been like you. He says
that the lady was a Miss Vigo." As she pronounced the name, Clara
turned her face away, feeling instinctively that it would be kind to
do so.

"Miss Vigo!" said Mrs. Askerton at once; and there was that in the
tone of her voice which made Clara feel that all was not right with
her. "I remember that there were Miss Vigos; two of them, I think.
I didn't know that they were like me especially."

"And he says that the one he remembers married a Mr. Berdmore."

"Married a Mr. Berdmore!" The tone of voice was still the same, and
there was an evident struggle, as though the woman was making a
vehement effort to speak in her natural voice. Then Clara looked at
her, feeling that if she abstained from doing so, the very fact of
her so abstaining would be remarkable. There was the look of pain on
Mrs. Askerton's brow, and her cheeks were still pale, but she smiled
as she went on speaking. "I'm sure I'm flattered, for I remember that
they wer