e was forced, in spite of the still existing violence
of her own feelings, to think and act chiefly with reference to that
event. Her father had not then left his room. She therefore went to
him, and handed him Kate's letter. "Papa," she said, "there is news
from Westmoreland; bad news, which you hardly expected yet." "My
father is dead," said John Vavasor. Whereupon Alice gave him Kate's
letter, that he might read it. "Of course I shall go down," he said,
as he came to that part in which Kate had spoken of him. "Does she
think I shall not follow my father to the grave, because I dislike
her brother? What does she mean by saying that there shall be no
quarrel between you and her?" "I will explain that at another time,"
said Alice. John Vavasor asked no further questions then, but
declared at first that he should go to Westmoreland on the following
day. Then he altered his purpose. "I'll go by the mail train
to-night," he said. "It will be very disagreeable, but I ought to
be there when the will is opened." There was very little more said
in Queen Anne Street on the subject till the evening,--till a few
moments before Mr Vavasor left his house. He indeed had thought
nothing more about that quarrelling, or rather that promise that
there should be no quarrelling, between the girls. He still regarded
his nephew George as the man who, unfortunately, was to be his
son-in-law, and now, during this tedious sad day, in which he felt
himself compelled to remain at home, he busied his mind in thinking
of George and Alice, as living together at the old Hall. At six, the
father and daughter dined, and soon after dinner Mr Vavasor went up
to his own room to prepare himself for his journey. After a while
Alice followed him,--but she did not do so till she knew that if
anything was to be told before the journey no further time could be
lost. "Papa," she said, as soon as she had shut the door behind her,
"I think I ought to tell you before you go that everything is over
between me and George."

"Have you quarrelled with him too?" said her father, with
uncontrolled surprise.

"I should perhaps say that he has quarrelled with me. But, dear papa,
pray do not question me at present. I will tell you all when you come
back, but I thought it right that you should know this before you
went."

"It has been his doing then?"

"I cannot explain it to you in a hurry like this. Papa, you may
understand something of the shame which I feel, and y