aving dined on the road. "She will be tired
to-night," he said to himself, as he went off to his club, "and I
will speak to her to-morrow." Alice specially felt his going on this
evening. When two persons had together the tedium of such a journey
as that from Westmoreland up to London, there should be some feeling
between them to bind them together while enjoying the comfort of the
evening. Had he stayed and sat with her at her tea-table, Alice would
at any rate have endeavoured to be soft with him in any discussion
that might have been raised; but he went away from her at once,
leaving her to think alone over the perils of the life before her. "I
want to speak to you after breakfast to-morrow," he said as he went
out. Alice answered that she should be there,--as a matter of course.
She scorned to tell him that she was always there,--always alone at
home. She had never uttered a word of complaint, and she would not
begin now.

The discussion after breakfast the next day was commenced with
formal and almost ceremonial preparation. The father and daughter
breakfasted together, with the knowledge that the discussion was
coming. It did not give to either of them a good appetite, and very
little was said at table.

"Will you come up-stairs?" said Alice, when she perceived that her
father had finished his tea.

"Perhaps that will be best," said he. Then he followed her into the
drawing-room in which the fire had just been lit.

"Alice," said he, "I must speak to you about this engagement of
yours."

"Won't you sit down, papa? It does look so dreadful, your standing up
over one in that way." He had placed himself on the rug with his back
to the incipient fire, but now, at her request, he sat himself down
opposite to her.

"I was greatly grieved when I heard of this at Vavasor."

"I am sorry that you should be grieved, papa."

"I was grieved. I must confess that I never could understand why you
treated Mr Grey as you have done."

"Oh, papa, that's done and past. Pray let that be among the bygones."

"Does he know yet of your engagement with your cousin?"

"He will know it by this time to-morrow."

"Then I beg of you, as a great favour, to postpone your letter to
him." To this Alice made no answer. "I have not troubled you with
many such requests, Alice. Will you tell me that this one shall be
granted?"

"I think that I owe it to him as an imperative duty to let him know
the truth."

"But you may change your