out Mrs. Trevelyan and the
Clock House is not very nice. If Mr. Gibson were to turn round and
say that the connection wasn't pleasant, no one would have a right to
complain."

The faint customary blush on Dorothy's cheeks which Mr. Gibson's name
had produced now covered her whole face even up to the roots of her
hair. "If he believes bad of mamma, I'm sure, Aunt Stanbury, I don't
want to see him again."

"That's all very fine, my dear, but a man has to think of himself,
you know."

"Of course he thinks of himself. Why shouldn't he? I dare say he
thinks of himself more than I do."

"Dorothy, don't be a fool. A good husband isn't to be caught every
day."

"Aunt Stanbury, I don't want to catch any man."

"Dorothy, don't be a fool."

"I must say it. I don't suppose Mr. Gibson thinks of me the least in
the world."

"Psha! I tell you he does."

"But as for mamma and Priscilla, I never could like anybody for a
moment who would be ashamed of them."

She was most anxious to declare that, as far as she knew herself
and her own wishes at present, she entertained no partiality for Mr.
Gibson,--no feeling which could become partiality even if Mr. Gibson
was to declare himself willing to accept her mother and her sister
with herself. But she did not dare to say so. There was an instinct
within her which made it almost impossible to her to express an
objection to a suitor before the suitor had declared himself to be
one. She could speak out as touching her mother and her sister,--but
as to her own feelings she could express neither assent nor dissent.

"I should like to have it settled soon," said Miss Stanbury, in a
melancholy voice. Even to this Dorothy could make no reply. What did
soon mean? Perhaps in the course of a year or two. "If it could be
arranged by the end of this week, it would be a great comfort to me."
Dorothy almost fell off her chair, and was stricken altogether dumb.
"I told you, I think, that Brooke Burgess is coming here?"

"You said he was to come some day."

"He is to be here on Monday. I haven't seen him for more than twelve
years; and now he's to be here next week? Dear, dear! When I think
sometimes of all the hard words that have been spoken, and the harder
thoughts that have been in people's minds, I often regret that the
money ever came to me at all. I could have done without it, very
well,--very well."

"But all the unpleasantness is over now, aunt."

"I don't know about that. Unplea