--a disease whose
prevalence at that period was a terror of which we at present can hardly
form a conception.

An idea suddenly energized Betty's apathetic features. She glanced at
her mother; Mrs. Dornell had been looking in the opposite direction.
Betty said that she wished to go back to the cottage for a moment to
speak to a girl in whom she took an interest. Mrs. Dornell appeared
suspicious, but observing that the cottage had no back-door, and that
Betty could not escape without being seen, she allowed the carriage to be
stopped. Betty ran back and entered the cottage, emerging again in about
a minute, and resuming her seat in the carriage. As they drove on she
fixed her eyes upon her mother and said, 'There, I have done it now!' Her
pale face was stormy, and her eyes full of waiting tears.

'What have you done?' said Mrs. Dornell.

'Nanny Priddle is sick of the smallpox, and I saw her at the window, and
I went in and kissed her, so that I might take it; and now I shall have
it, and he won't be able to come near me!'

'Wicked girl!' cries her mother. 'Oh, what am I to do! What--bring a
distemper on yourself, and usurp the sacred prerogative of God, because
you can't palate the man you've wedded!'

The alarmed woman gave orders to drive home as rapidly as possible, and
on arriving, Betty, who was by this time also somewhat frightened at her
own enormity, was put into a bath, and fumigated, and treated in every
way that could be thought of to ward off the dreadful malady that in a
rash moment she had tried to acquire.

There was now a double reason for isolating the rebellious daughter and
wife in her own chamber, and there she accordingly remained for the rest
of the day and the days that followed; till no ill results seemed likely
to arise from her wilfulness.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the first letter from Reynard, announcing to Mrs. Dornell and
her husband jointly that he was coming in a few days, had sped on its way
to Falls-Park. It was directed under cover to Tupcombe, the confidential
servant, with instructions not to put it into his master's hands till he
had been refreshed by a good long sleep. Tupcombe much regretted his
commission, letters sent in this way always disturbing the Squire; but
guessing that it would be infinitely worse in the end to withhold the
news than to reveal it, he chose his time, which was early the next
morning, and delivered the missive.

The utmost effect that Mrs. D