say to her?"

"I would tell her that I was responsible for my own friends. But I
must go now. Papa will complain that I am so long away." Then there
was another embrace, and at last Clara found her way out of the house
and was alone again in the park.

She clearly acknowledged to herself that she had a great difficulty
before her. She had committed herself altogether to Mrs. Askerton,
and could no longer entertain any thought of obeying the very plainly
expressed commands which Captain Aylmer had given her. The story as
told by Captain Aylmer had been true throughout; but, in the teeth
of that truth, she intended to maintain her acquaintance with Mrs.
Askerton. From that there was now no escape. She had been carried
away by impulse in what she had done and said at the cottage, but
she could not bring herself to regret it. She could not believe that
it was her duty to throw over and abandon a woman whom she loved,
because that woman had once, in her dire extremity, fallen away from
the path of virtue. But how was she to write the letter?

When she reached her father he complained of her absence, and almost
scolded her for having been so long at the cottage. "I cannot see,"
said he, "what you find in that woman to make so much of her."

"She is the only neighbour I have, papa."

"And better none than her, if all that people say of her is true."

"All that people say is never true, papa."

"There is no smoke without fire. I am not at all sure that it's good
for you to be so much with her."

"Oh, papa,--don't treat me like a child."

"And I'm sure it's not good for me that you should be so much away.
For anything I have seen of you all day you might have been at
Perivale. But you are going soon, altogether, so I suppose I may as
well make up my mind to it."

"I'm not going for a long time yet, papa."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that there's nothing to take me away from here at present."

"You are engaged to be married."

"But it will be a long engagement. It is one of those engagements in
which neither party is very anxious for an immediate change." There
was something bitter in Clara's tone as she said this, which the old
man perceived, but could only half understand. Clara remained with
him then for the rest of the day, going down-stairs for five minutes,
to her dinner, and then returning to him and reading aloud while he
dozed. Her winter evenings at Belton Castle were not very bright, but
sh