out to behave in a manner which demanded
much gratitude. But it seemed to her that Dorothy was not in
the least grateful. Hugh had proved himself to be "a mass of
ingratitude," as she was in the habit of saying. None of the
Burgesses had ever shown to her any gratitude for promises made to
them, or, indeed, for any substantial favours conferred upon them.
And now Dorothy, to whom a very seventh heaven of happiness had been
opened,--a seventh heaven, as it must be computed in comparison with
her low expectations,--now Dorothy was already shewing how thankless
she could become. Mr. Gibson had not yet declared his passion, but he
had freely admitted to Miss Stanbury that he was prepared to do so.
Priscilla had been quite right in her suggestion that there was a
clear understanding between the clergyman and her aunt.

"I don't think he is come after all," said Miss Stanbury, looking
at her watch. Had the train arrived at the moment that it was due,
had the expectant visitor jumped out of the railway carriage into
a fly, and had the driver galloped up to the Close, it might have
been possible that the wheels should have been at the door as Miss
Stanbury spoke.

"It's hardly time yet, aunt."

"Nonsense; it is time. The train comes in at four. I dare say he
won't come at all."

"He is sure to come, aunt."

"I've no doubt you know all about it better than any one else. You
usually do." Then five minutes were passed in silence. "Heaven and
earth! what shall I do with these people that are coming? And I told
them especially that it was to meet this young man! It's the way I am
always treated by everybody that I have about me."

"The train might be ten minutes late, Aunt Stanbury."

"Yes;--and monkeys might chew tobacco. There;--there's the omnibus at
the Cock and Bottle; the omnibus up from the train. Now, of course,
he won't come."

"Perhaps he's walking, Aunt Stanbury."

"Walking,--with his luggage on his shoulders? Is that your idea of
the way in which a London gentleman goes about? And there are two
flies,--coming up from the train, of course." Miss Stanbury was
obliged to fix the side of her chair very close to the window in
order that she might see that part of the Close in which the vehicles
of which she had spoken were able to pass.

"Perhaps they are not coming from the train, Aunt Stanbury."

"Perhaps a fiddlestick! You have lived here so much longer than
I have done that, of course, you must know all abo