perfectly
appalled.

She promised, but she found the fulfilment difficult, in her dislike of
vexing Guy, her fear of saying what was wrong, and a doubt whether the
appearance of persecuting Mr. Dixon was not the very way to prevent
Guy's own good sense from finding out his true character, so she waited,
hoping Mr. Edmonstone might return before Guy went to Oxford, or that he
might write decisively.

Mrs. Edmonstone might have known her husband better than to expect him
to write decisively when he had neither herself nor Philip at his elbow.
The same post had brought him a letter from Guy, mentioning his meeting
with his uncle, and frankly explaining his plans for London; another
from Philip, calling on him to use all his authority to prevent this
intercourse, and a third from his wife. Bewildered between them, he took
them to his sister, who, being as puzzle-headed as himself, and only
hearing his involved history of the affair, confused him still more; so
he wrote to Philip, saying he was sorry the fellow had turned up, but he
would guard against him. He told Guy he was sorry to say that his uncle
used to be a sad scamp, and he must take care, or it would be his poor
father's story over again; and to Mrs. Edmonstone he wrote that it was
very odd that everything always did go wrong when he was away.

He thought these letters a great achievement, but his wife's perplexity
was not materially relieved.

After considering a good while, she at length spoke to Guy; but it was
not at a happy time, for Philip, despairing of her, had just taken on
himself to remonstrate, and had angered him to the verge of an outbreak.

Mrs. Edmonstone, as mildly as she could, urged on him that such
intercourse could bring him little satisfaction, and might be very
inconvenient; that his uncle was in no distress, and did not require
assistance; and that it was too probable that in seeking him out he
might meet with persons who might unsettle his principles,--in short,
that he had much better give up the visit to London.

'This is Philip's advice,' said Guy.

'It is; but--'

Guy looked impatient, and she paused.

'You must forgive me,' he said, 'if I follow my own judgment. If Mr.
Edmonstone chose to lay his commands on me, I suppose I must submit; but
I cannot see that I am bound to obey Philip.'

'Not to obey, certainly; but his advice--'

'He is prejudiced and unjust,' said Guy.

'I don't believe that my uncle would attempt to l