Mr. Smirkie's mother at Ipswich.--Your affectionate aunt,

'MARYANNE BABINGTON.'

Caldigate was at first inclined to send, in answer to this letter, a
reply which would not have been agreeable to his aunt, but was talked
into a better state of mind by his wife. 'Telling me that she will
forgive me! The question is whether I will forgive her!' 'Let that be
the question,' said his wife, 'and do forgive her. She wants to come
round, and, of course, she has to make the best of it for herself. Tell
her from me that I shall be delighted to see her whenever she chooses to
come.'

'Poor Julia!' said Caldigate, laughing.

'Of course you think so, John. That's natural enough. Perhaps I think so
too. But what has that to do with it?'

'It's rather unfortunate that I know so much about Mr. Smirkie. He is
fifty years old, and has five children by his former wife.'

'I don't see why he shouldn't be a good husband for all that.'

'And Plum-cum-Pippins is less than _L300_ a-year. Poor dear Julia!'

'I believe you are jealous, John.'

'Well; yes. Look at the way she has underscored it. Of course I'm
jealous.' Nevertheless he wrote a courteous answer promising to go over
and shoot the coverts, and stay for one night.

He did go over and shoot the coverts, and stayed for one night; but the
visit was not very successful. Aunt Polly would talk of the glories of
the Plum-cum-Pippins rectory in a manner which implied that dear Julia's
escape from a fate which once threatened her had been quite
providential. When he alluded,--as he did, but should not have done,--to
the young Smirkies, she spoke with almost ecstatic enthusiasm of the
'dear children,' Caldigate knowing the while that the eldest child must
be at least sixteen. And then, though Aunt Polly was kind to him, she
was kind in an almost insulting manner,--as though he were to be
received for the sake of auld lang syne in spite of the step he had
taken downwards in the world. He did his best to bear all this with no
more than an inward smile, telling himself that it behoved him as a man
to allow her to have her little revenge. But the smile was seen, and the
more that was seen of it, the more often was he reminded that he had
lost that place in the Babington elysium which might have been his, had
he not been too foolish to know what was good for him. And a hint was
given that the Boltons a short time since had not been aristocratic,
whereas it was proved to him from Bur