family.
The Vavasors were relieved from all further trouble, and were as much
surprised as gratified when they heard that she did her duty well
in her new position. Arabella had long been a thorn in their side,
never having really done anything which they could pronounce to be
absolutely wrong, but always giving them cause for fear. Now they
feared no longer. Her husband was a retired merchant, very rich, not
very strong in health, and devoted to his bride. Rumours soon made
their way to Vavasor Hall, and to Queen Anne Street, that Mrs Greenow
was quite a pattern wife, and that Mr Greenow considered himself to
be the happiest old man in Lancashire. And now in her prosperity she
quite forgave the former slights which had been put upon her by her
relatives. She wrote to her dear niece Alice, and to her dearest
niece Kate, and sent little presents to her father. On one occasion
she took her husband to Vavasor Hall, and there was a regular renewal
of all the old family feelings. Arabella's husband was an old
man, and was very old for his age; but the whole thing was quite
respectable, and there was, at any rate, no doubt about the money.
Then Mr Greenow died; and the widow, having proved the will, came up
to London and claimed the commiseration of her nieces.

"Why not go to Yarmouth with her for a month?" George had said to
Kate. "Of course it will be a bore. But an aunt with forty thousand
pounds has a right to claim attention." Kate acknowledged the truth
of the argument and agreed to go to Yarmouth for a month. "Your aunt
Arabella has shown herself to be a very sensible woman," the old
squire had written; "much more sensible than anybody thought her
before her marriage. Of course you should go with her if she asks
you." What aunt, uncle, or cousin, in the uncontrolled possession of
forty thousand pounds was ever unpopular in the family?

Yarmouth is not a very prepossessing place to the eye. To my eye,
at any rate, it is not so. There is an old town with which summer
visitors have little or nothing to do; and there are the new houses
down by the sea-side, to which, at any rate, belongs the full
advantage of sea air. A kind of esplanade runs for nearly a mile
along the sands, and there are built, or in the course of building,
rows of houses appropriated to summer visitors all looking out upon
the sea. There is no beauty unless the yellow sandy sea can be called
beautiful. The coast is low and straight, and the east wi