Nuncombe Putney had been of such a nature, that though she
knew that other girls were looked at, and even made love to, and that
they got married and had children, no dim vision of such a career
for herself had ever presented itself to her eyes. She had known
very well that her mother and sister and herself were people
apart,--ladies, and yet so extremely poor, that they could only
maintain their rank by the most rigid seclusion. To live, and work
unseen, was what the world had ordained for her. Then her call
to Exeter had come upon her, and she had conceived that she was
henceforth to be the humble companion of a very imperious old aunt.
Her aunt, indeed, was imperious, but did not seem to require humility
in her companion. All the good things that were eaten and drunk were
divided between them with the strictest impartiality. Dorothy's
cushion and hassock in the church and in the cathedral were the same
as her aunt's. Her bed-room was made very comfortable for her. Her
aunt never gave her any orders before company, and always spoke of
her before the servants as one whom they were to obey and respect.
Gradually Dorothy came to understand the meaning of this;--but her
aunt would sometimes say things about young men which she did not
quite understand. Could it be that her aunt supposed that any young
man would come and wish to marry her,--her, Dorothy Stanbury? She
herself had not quite so strong an aversion to men in general as that
which Priscilla felt, but she had not as yet found that any of those
whom she had seen at Exeter were peculiarly agreeable to her. Before
she went to bed that night her aunt said a word to her which startled
her more than she had ever been startled before. On that evening Miss
Stanbury had a few friends to drink tea with her. There were Mr. and
Mrs. Crumbie, and Mrs. MacHugh of course, and the Cheritons from
Alphington, and the Miss Apjohns from Helion Villa, and old Mr. Powel
all the way from Haldon, and two of the Wrights from their house
in the Northernhay, and Mr. Gibson;--but the Miss Frenches from
Heavitree were not there. "Why don't you have the Miss Frenches,
aunt?" Dorothy had asked.

"Bother the Miss Frenches! I'm not bound to have them every time.
There's Camilla has been and got herself a band-box on the back of
her head a great deal bigger than the place inside where her brains
ought to be." But the band-box at the back of Camilla French's head
was not the sole cause of the omi