obtain some
information respecting this young person--named Miller, I think you
said, and now resident at South Morden. If I am satisfied that she is
a woman of reputable character, possessing an average education and
presentable manners, we may as well let Alfred take his own way. He is
out of the pale of Society, as it is; and Miss Miller has no father and
mother to complicate matters, which is distinctly a merit on her part
and, in short, if the marriage is not absolutely disgraceful, the wisest
way (as we have no power to prevent it) will be to submit. You will say
nothing to Alfred about what I propose to do. I tell you plainly I
don't trust him. You will simply inform him from me that I want time to
consider, and that, unless he hears to the contrary in the interval, he
may expect to have the sanction of your presence at his breakfast, or
luncheon, or whatever it is. I must go to town in a day or two, and I
shall ascertain what Alfred's friends know about this last of his many
follies, if I meet any of them at the club."

Returning to South Morden in no serene frame of mind, Hardyman found
Isabel in a state of depression which perplexed and alarmed him.

The news that his mother might be expected to be present at the garden
party failed entirely to raise her spirits. The only explanation she
gave of the change in her was, that the dull heavy weather of the
last few days made her feel a little languid and nervous. Naturally
dissatisfied with this reply to his inquiries, Hardyman asked for
Miss Pink. He was informed that Miss Pink could not see him. She was
constitutionally subject to asthma, and, having warnings of the return
of the malady, she was (by the doctor's advice) keeping her room.
Hardyman returned to the farm in a temper which was felt by everybody in
his employment, from the trainer to the stable-boys.

While the apology made for Miss Pink stated no more than the plain
truth, it must be confessed that Hardyman was right in declining to be
satisfied with Isabel's excuse for the melancholy that oppressed her.
She had that morning received Moody's answer to the lines which she had
addressed to him at the end of her aunt's letter; and she had not yet
recovered from the effect which it had produced on her spirits.

"It is impossible for me to say honestly that I am not distressed (Moody
wrote) by the news of your marriage engagement. The blow has fallen very
heavily on me. When I look at the future now, I