duty as often as not."

"Let them," said Eleonora, "as long as I have nothing to do with
them."

"What was that pretty French novel--Sybille, was it?--where the
child wanted to ride on nothing but swans? You will be like her,
and have to condescend to ordinary mortals."

"She did not. She died. And, Camilla, I would far rather die than
marry a betting man."

"A betting man, who regularly went in for it! You little goose, to
think that I would ask you to do that! As you say we have had
enough of that! But to renounce every man who has set foot on a
course, or staked a pair of gloves, is to renounce nine out of ten
of the world one lives in."

"I do renounce them. Camilla, remember that my mind is made up for
ever, and that nothing shall ever induce me to marry a man who
meddles with the evils of races."

"Meddles with the evils? I understand, my dear Lena."

"A man who makes a bet," repeated Eleonora.

"We shall see," was her ladyship's light answer, in contrast to the
grave tones; "no rules are without exceptions, and I only ask for
_one_."

"I shall make none."

"I confess I thought you were coming to your senses; you have been
acting so wisely and sensibly ever since you came home, about that
young Frank Charnock."

Lady Tyrrell heard a little rustle, but could not see that it was
the clasping of two hands over a throbbing heart. "I am very glad
you are reasonable enough to keep him at a distance. Poor boy, it
was all very well to be friendly with him when we met him in a place
like Rockpier, and you were both children; but you are quite right
not to let it go on. It would be mere madness."

"For him, yes," murmured the girl.

"And even more so for you. Why, if he had any property worth
speaking of, it would be a wretched thing to marry into that family!
I am sure I pity those three poor girls! Miles's wife looks
perfectly miserable, poor thing, and the other two can't conceal the
state of things. She is just the sort of woman who cannot endure a
daughter-in-law."

"I thought I heard Lady Rosamond talking very affectionately of
her."

"Very excitedly, as one who felt it her duty to stand up for her
out-of-doors, whatever she may do indoors. I saw victory in those
plump white shoulders, which must have cost a battle; but whatever
Lady Rosamond gains, will make it all the worse for the others. No,
Eleonora, I have known Mrs. Poynsett's rancour for many years, and I
would wish no on