r a moment.

"I should be glad if I had," said Phoebe.

"You must be labouring under some mistake, Madam. I have an estate
which brings me in three thousand a year, and I am my own master. 'Tis
not an opportunity a maid can look to meet with every day, nor is it
every gentlewoman that I would ask to be my wife."

"No--only a golden one!" said Phoebe.

"Madam!"

Phoebe turned, and their eyes met.

"Mr Welles, give me leave to tell you the truth: you do not hear it
often. You do not wish to marry me. You wish to obtain White-Ladies.
'Tis of no consequence to you whether the woman that must needs come
with it be Phoebe Latrobe or Rhoda Peveril. My cousin would please you
better than I; but you really care not a straw for either of us. You
only want the estate. Allow me in my turn to assure you that, so far as
I am concerned, you will not get it. The man who could use my cousin as
you have done may keep away from endeavouring my favour. I wish you a
very good morning, Mr Welles."

"I beg, Madam, that you will permit me to explain--" stammered Mr
Welles, whose grace and tactics alike forsook him under the treatment to
which he was subjected by Phoebe.

"Sir, there is nothing to explain."

And with a courtesy which could be construed into nothing but final
dismissal, Phoebe left her astonished suitor to stand and look after her
with the air of a beaten general, while she turned the corner of the
Maidens' Lodge, and made her way to Lady Betty's door.

Lady Betty was at that moment giving an "at home" on the very minute
scale permitted by the diminutive appointments of the Maidens' Lodge.
Mrs Jane Talbot and Mrs Dorothy Jennings were seated at her little
tea-table.

"Why, my dear Mrs Phoebe! what an unlooked-for pleasure!" exclaimed
Lady Betty, coming forward cordially.

If her cordiality had been a shade more distinct since Phoebe became
heiress of Cressingham--well, she was only human. The other ladies
present had sustained no such change.

"The Lord bless thee, dear child!" was the warm greeting of Mrs Dolly;
but it had been quite as warm long before.

"Evening!" said Mrs Jane, with a sarcastic grin. "Got it over, has he?
Saw you through the side window. Bless you, child, I know all about
it--I expected that all along. Hope you let him catch it--the
jackanapes!"

"I did not let him catch me, Mrs Jane," answered Phoebe, with some
dignity.

"That's right!" said Mrs Jane, decidedly. "That bun