epeating the question, she said, in a tone which
she could not prevent from being lachrymose, 'You make Guy almost angry,
you tease him, and when people praise him, you answer as if it would not
last! And it is very unfair of you,' concluded she, with almost a sob.

'Charlotte,' replied Philip, much more kindly than she thought she
deserved, after the reproach that seemed to her so dreadfully naughty,
'you may dismiss all fear of deadly feud, whatever you may mean by it.
Charles has been playing tricks on you. You know, my little cousin, that
I am a Christian, and we live in the nineteenth century.'

Charlotte felt as if annihilated at the aspect of her own folly. He
resumed--'You misunderstood me. I do think Guy very agreeable. He is
very attentive to Charles, very kind to you, and so attractive, that I
don't wonder you like him. But those who are older than you see that he
has faults, and we wish to set him on his guard against them. It may be
painful to ourselves, and irritating to him, but depend upon it, it is
the proof of friendship. Are you satisfied, my little cousin?'

She could only say humbly, 'I beg your pardon.'

'You need not ask pardon. Since you had the notion, it was right to
speak, as it was to me, one of your own family. When you are older, you
need never fear to speak out in the right place. I am glad you have
so much of the right sort of feminine courage, though in this case you
might have ventured to trust to me.'

So ended Charlotte's anxieties respecting the deadly feud, and she had
now to make up her mind to the loss of her playfellow, who was to go to
Oxford at Easter, when he would be just eighteen, his birthday being the
28th of March. Both her playmates were going, Bustle as well as Guy, and
it was at first proposed that Deloraine should go too, but Guy bethought
himself that Oxford would be a place of temptation for William; and not
choosing to trust the horse to any one else, resolved to leave both at
Hollywell.

His grandfather had left an allowance for Guy, until his coming of age,
such as might leave no room for extravagance, and which even Philip
pronounced to be hardly sufficient for a young man in his position. 'You
know,' said Mr. Edmonstone, in his hesitating, good-natured way, 'if
ever you have occasion sometimes for a little--a little more--you need
only apply to me. Don't be afraid, anything rather than run into debt.
You know me, and 'tis your own.'

'This shall do,' sai