very fine ones, as Emilia said, and they
hit him hard. However, he pitied her, and that protected him like a
shield. He told his sisters a tale of his own concerning the strange
damsel, humorously enough to make them see that he enjoyed her presence
as that of no common oddity.

CHAPTER VII

While Emilia was giving Wilfrid her history in the garden, the ladies
of Brookfield were holding consultation over a matter which was well
calculated to perplex and irritate them excessively. Mr. Pole had
received a curious short epistle from Mrs. Chump, informing him of the
atrocious treatment she had met with at the hands of his daughter;
and instead of reviewing the orthography, incoherence, and deliberate
vulgarity of the said piece of writing with the contempt it deserved,
he had taken the unwonted course of telling Arabella that she had done
a thing she must necessarily repent of, or in any case make apology for.
An Eastern Queen, thus addressed by her Minister of the treasury, could
not have felt greater indignation. Arabella had never seen her father
show such perturbation of mind. He spoke violently and imperiously. The
apology was ordered to be despatched by that night's post, after having
been submitted to his inspection. Mr. Pole had uttered mysterious
phrases: "You don't know what you've been doing:--You think the ship'll
go on sailing without wind: You'll drive the horse till he drops,"
and such like; together with mutterings. The words were of no
import whatsoever to the ladies. They were writings on the wall;
untranslateable. But, as when the earth quakes our noble edifices
totter, their Palace of the Fine Shades and the Nice Feelings groaned
and creaked, and for a moment they thought: "Where are we?" Very soon
they concluded, that the speech Arabella had heard was due to their
darling papa's defective education.

In the Council of Three, with reference to the letter of apology to Mrs.
Chump, Adela proposed, if it pleased Arabella, to fight the battle of
the Republic. She was young, and wished both to fight and to lead, as
Arabella knew. She was checked. "It must be left to me," said Arabella.

"Of course you resist, dear?" Cornelia carelessly questioned.

"Assuredly I do."

"Better humiliation! better anything! better marriage! than to submit in
such a case," cried Adela.

For, so united were the ladies of Brookfield, and so bent on their grand
hazy object, that they looked upon married life unfavourab