'

Mrs Varden began to think (she scarcely knew why) that the young Mr
Chester must be in the wrong and the old Mr Chester must be in the
right.

'My son Ned,' resumed her tempter with his most winning air, 'has had, I
am told, your lovely daughter's aid, and your open-hearted husband's.'

'--Much more than mine, sir,' said Mrs Varden; 'a great deal more. I
have often had my doubts. It's a--'

'A bad example,' suggested Mr Chester. 'It is. No doubt it is. Your
daughter is at that age when to set before her an encouragement for
young persons to rebel against their parents on this most important
point, is particularly injudicious. You are quite right. I ought to have
thought of that myself, but it escaped me, I confess--so far superior
are your sex to ours, dear madam, in point of penetration and sagacity.'

Mrs Varden looked as wise as if she had really said something to deserve
this compliment--firmly believed she had, in short--and her faith in her
own shrewdness increased considerably.

'My dear ma'am,' said Mr Chester, 'you embolden me to be plain with
you. My son and I are at variance on this point. The young lady and her
natural guardian differ upon it, also. And the closing point is, that my
son is bound by his duty to me, by his honour, by every solemn tie and
obligation, to marry some one else.'

'Engaged to marry another lady!' quoth Mrs Varden, holding up her hands.

'My dear madam, brought up, educated, and trained, expressly for that
purpose. Expressly for that purpose.--Miss Haredale, I am told, is a
very charming creature.'

'I am her foster-mother, and should know--the best young lady in the
world,' said Mrs Varden.

'I have not the smallest doubt of it. I am sure she is. And you, who
have stood in that tender relation towards her, are bound to consult her
happiness. Now, can I--as I have said to Haredale, who quite agrees--can
I possibly stand by, and suffer her to throw herself away (although she
IS of a Catholic family), upon a young fellow who, as yet, has no heart
at all? It is no imputation upon him to say he has not, because young
men who have plunged deeply into the frivolities and conventionalities
of society, very seldom have. Their hearts never grow, my dear ma'am,
till after thirty. I don't believe, no, I do NOT believe, that I had any
heart myself when I was Ned's age.'

'Oh sir,' said Mrs Varden, 'I think you must have had. It's impossible
that you, who have so much now, can eve