from
him that I could take as a proposal. How anxiously I have waited for
one, God knows."

Mrs. Pendarrel bit her lip.

"It is of no consequence," she said, "you cannot recede without
disgrace and shame. If you are prepared to submit to them, I am not.
This marriage must proceed. Always, that is, if you have not affronted
Mr. Melcomb irrevocably. But you dared not."

A flash in Mildred's eye at the word might show Esther more daring
than she would like.

"Mother," she said, "I prayed Mr. Melcomb, in pity, to urge his suit
no more. I make a similar prayer to you. And, mother, there is one
thing I dare not do. I dare not wed this man."

"I fancy you will find heart," said Mrs. Pendarrel, with a sneer on
the word. "And since you are so agitated, you had better stay at home
till you do."

But that home was to be changed. Immediately after this conversation,
Mrs. Pendarrel determined to carry her daughter down into Cornwall,
and finish the matter with a high hand. She had another motive for the
journey, having heard from Sinson that the Trevethlans had gone home,
and feeling, she scarcely knew why, desirous to be near them. But,
before she could execute her design, she had to undergo a remonstrance
from Mrs. Winston.

"And can the news I hear be true, dear mamma?" the latter asked.

"What news, Gertrude?"

"That Mildred is to be Mrs. Melcomb?"

"That is no news to you, Gertrude. You have known Mr. Melcomb's
position here from the first."

"I knew he was idling about Mildred, as he has done about fifty other
girls. But I did not know that she was to be sacrificed without her
consent."

"Sacrificed, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Pendarrel. "Why, she has
encouraged him!"

"No, mother," said Mrs. Winston; "never. She may lately have seemed to
do so, owing to my advice. And she shall not suffer for taking it."

"Shall!" Esther repeated. "Upon my word, Gertrude, I could fancy you
were practising the settlement of a daughter of your own."

"My dear mamma!" Mrs. Winston answered, in a tone which fully
returned the sarcasm. "And you think Mr. Melcomb calculated to make
Mildred happy?"

"Surely," replied the mother. "Is he not a highly agreeable and
honourable man?"

"Agreeable, because he is a roue: honourable, because he does not
cheat at cards. Is it not so, dear mamma?"

Mrs. Pendarrel smiled.

"You have been studying philosophy, my dear," she said; "taking a
lesson from your own good husband. You know that