scandal calls every
handsome fellow a rake, and every generous one a gambler."

"I know nothing of the sort, but I know that Melcomb is both," said
Mrs. Winston, very bitterly. "And I will do everything in my power to
save my sister from the misery of such a union."

"You are a dutiful and grateful daughter, in good truth," cried Mrs.
Pendarrel, with suppressed rage. "And, pray, what will you do?"

"I will at least offer Mildred a shelter in my house."

"'T will avail her nothing; the law is against you," the mother
exclaimed furiously. "And for this I toiled and toiled, and placed my
child in a position envied of a hundred rivals! For this I plotted,
and manoeuvred, and wasted hours and hours on that obdurate
simpleton; and mined and countermined, and contended with dissension
at home, and ill-dissembled malice abroad!"

"You might at least be respectful to your dupe, dear mamma, in my
presence."

"Ungrateful! But why do I argue with you?"

Gertrude rose, and leant upon the back of her mother's chair.

"Because," she said, "you know that I am right. Mother, I have no
reason to thank you for my marriage. You know it very well. It is true
I have no such wretchedness to encounter as would befall Mildred in a
match like this. The world thinks me a happy woman. I do not complain.
I wear my chains as lightly and gracefully as I can. But they are
chains, nevertheless. And you know it, mother. Yet I would fain think
you meant me kindly, and it is therefore I remonstrate in poor
Mildred's behalf. May we not discuss the affair as friends?"

"It is too late," said Mrs. Pendarrel.

"Too late!" Gertrude exclaimed.

"My word is absolutely pledged to Mr. Melcomb. It is impossible to
recede."

"And Mildred only asked yesterday!" said Mrs. Winston, quitting her
position, and walking away. "Sold, positively sold, for the contiguity
of a few acres!"

But little more passed, before the mother and daughter parted with a
very ceremonious salute.

Did Mrs. Pendarrel flinch under the remonstrances of her child? Did
she waver a moment in her course? Reproached as the cause of
Gertrude's unhappiness, did she hesitate to consummate the sacrifice
of Mildred? If she had, she would not have been Esther Pendarrel. She
had a quarrel with the world of five-and-thirty years' standing. Love!
Folly! What had love been to her? Reason! She had married against it.
Convenience! Ay, she wedded the heir presumptive of Trevethlan. So let
her