told
her how ill she managed, sent her to bed, where she vexed herself for
hours at Arthur's seeming to dwell only on his gaming debts, instead of
on what she longed to see occupying his mind. Her elasticity seemed to
have been destroyed by her illness, and she had lost the vigour which
once would have made her rise against depression. The reappearance of
Percy and of Lord St. Erme seemed only to have wearied and perplexed
her; and she lay awake, feeling worn, confused, and harassed, and only
wishing to hide her head and be at rest.

Arthur had a bad night, and was not so well in the morning, and while
Lord Martindale was wondering why Theodora could not have been more
cautious, the letters came in--one from Brogden--making it evident that
Lady Martindale was so unwell and dispirited, that she ought not to be
left alone any longer. Lord Martindale, therefore, decreed that Theodora
should return, taking with her the three eldest children. And she could
make no objection; she ought to submit to be passively disposed of;
and, grievous as it was to leave her brother and Violet, there was
compensation in avoiding her former suitors.

Lady Elizabeth came in almost at the same time as Lord Martindale went
out, after breakfast. She was in great distress. Poor Emma treated the
whole as a calumny; and when shown the absolute certainty that Mark
was at Paris, daily calling on Mrs. Finch, remained persuaded that his
cousin had perverted him from the first, and was now trying to revive
her pernicious influence when he might have been saved; or that perhaps
he was driven to an immediate wealthy marriage by his honourable feeling
and his necessities. It was all her own fault for not having taken him
at once. Lady Elizabeth had hardly been able to prevent her from writing
to revoke the year's probation, and offer him all that was needed to
satisfy his creditors.

Theodora could not help exclaiming, that she thought Emma would have had
more dignity.

'So I told her, my dear; but it seemed to be no consolation. I do not
feel secure that, though she has promised me not to write, Theresa
Marstone may not.'

'Is Miss Marstone still in his favour?'

'I can still less understand her view,' said Lady Elizabeth, with a
grave, sad simplicity, almost like satire; 'she says it only convinces
her that the Church of England does not know how to treat penitents.'

Theodora could not help laughing, and Lady Elizabeth nearly joined her,
thoug