then after that, back she comes again, as white as a sheet, but
all she ever was to my father, and more wonderful than all, setting
herself to reconcile him to the notion of this new heir of his--and I do
believe, if my father had not so suddenly grown worse, she would have
made us have him up to be introduced--all out of rectitude and duty, you
know, for Adela is the shyest of mortals, and recoils by nature from the
underbred far more than we do. In fact, I rather like it. It gives me a
sensation. I had ten times rather this man were a common sailor, or a
tinker, than just a stupid stick of a clerk!'

'Then Adela means to stay at the Dower House?'

'Yes, she has rooted herself there by all her love to her poor people,
and I fancy, too, that she does not want to bring Amice up among all the
Arlington children, who are not after her pattern, so she intends to bear
the brunt of it, and not leave Northmoor, unless the new-comers turn out
unbearable.'

'She goes away with her brother now.'

'Oh yes, she must, and Lord Arlington is fond of her in a way! Can't you
stay on with me, Lettice?'

'I wish I could, my dear Birdie, but I am anxious about Mary; I don't
think I must stay later than Sunday.'

'Yes; you are too devoted a mother for me to absorb. Never mind, you
will be in London, and I shall soon be within reach of you. You are a
comfortable person, Lettice.'

CHAPTER V
THE PEER

Poor Miss Lang! After all her care that her young pupils' heads should
not be turned by folly about marriage and noblemen, the very event she
had always viewed as most absurdly improbable had really occurred, and it
was impossible to keep it a secret; though Miss Marshall did her very
best to appear as usual, heard lessons with her accustomed diligence,
conducted the daily exercises, watched over the instructions by masters,
and presided over the needlework. But she grew whiter, more pinched, and
her little face more mouse-like every day, and the elder girls whispered
fancies about her. 'She had no doubt heard that Lord Northmoor had
broken it off!'--'A little poky attorney's clerk, of course he
would.'--'Poor dear thing, she will go into a consumption! Didn't you
hear her cough last night?'--'And then we'll all throw wreaths into her
grave!'--'Oh, that was only Elsie Harris!'--'Nonsense, Mabel, I'm sure it
was her, poor thing. Prenez garde, la vieille Dragonne vient.'

That Lord Northmoor was to come back by the m