"Melcomb will never make a woman happy," she said, after a pause.

"He will certainly never make me happy," exclaimed Mildred, half
laughing. "But really, Gertrude, how silly I am! What does Mr. Melcomb
care about me!"

"Very little, I dare say, not to flatter you, dear. Very little about
Mildred: a good deal about Mildred's money. And perhaps mamma would
not care to add Tolpeden to Pendarrel. You know they join. There's
something for your cogitation."

For a while the sisters were silent. Then the younger spoke.

"Dearest Gertrude," she said, "believe me I will never marry
without--believe me, I have not yet seen anyone whom I would marry.
When I spoke just now, I hardly knew what I meant."

Poor Gertrude knew her sister's meaning perfectly well. She
recollected the weight of the chain from which she had recklessly made
her escape, without calculating the cost.

"Mildred," said she, "let me ever be your confidante as now."

And so in a less serious mood, the sisters pursued their way round the
November dreariness of Hyde Park, at the season when:--

"Remote, unfriended, solitary, slow,
Scarce one lone horseman paces Rotten Row."

The stranger they had passed in Mrs. Pendarrel's vestibule was Michael
Sinson, newly arrived in London, and come with proper diligence to pay
his respects to his patroness. The young countryman was completely
overwhelmed by the vision of the two fine ladies who swept by him. But
his wonder was not indiscriminating, and it was Mildred who fixed his
gaze. He had seen her at Pendarrel, but not with the same impression.
In kind and familiar intercourse with the tenantry, she was a very
different person. Here she seemed almost a creature of another sphere.
With her mien, so quiet and yet so proud; her step, scarcely touching
the ground, yet appearing to spurn it; her repose, exhibiting a
security which it was impossible to disturb. Michael followed her with
his eyes until she had entered the carriage, and continued looking
vacantly in the same direction, even after the hall-door was closed. A
tap on the shoulder roused him from his abstraction, and he followed a
servant into the presence of Mrs. Pendarrel.

The interview was of no great duration. Sinson's patroness was pleased
to notice with praise that he was improved in appearance and address;
and asked him a few questions respecting the country, which he
answered to her satisfaction. She made no allusion to the peculiar
ser