us,' said Mr. Moxey, in a
tone of genial invitation. 'I daresay you had dinner long enough ago to
have picked up a new appetite.'

Godwin had a perturbing vision of the five Miss Moxeys and of a dinner
table, such as he was not used to sit at; he wished to decline, yet
knew not how to do so with civility.

'Yes, yes; come along!' added his friend, heartily. 'Tell us something
about your chemistry paper. Any posers this time? My nephew won't be
out of it; he belongs to the firm of Bates Brothers--the Rotherhithe
people, you know.'

This information was a surprise to Godwin. He had imagined Christian
Moxey either a gentleman at large, or at all events connected with some
liberal profession. Glancing at the attractive face, he met a singular
look, a smile which suggested vague doubts. But Christian made no
remark, and Mr. Moxey renewed his inquiries about the examination in
chemistry.

The five daughters--all assembled in a homely sitting-room--were
nothing less than formidable. Plain, soft-spoken, not ill educated,
they seemed to live in perfect harmony, and to derive satisfaction from
pursuits independent of external society. In the town they were seldom
seen; few families called upon them; and only the most inveterate
gossips found matter for small-talk in their retired lives. It had
never been heard that any one of them was sought in marriage. Godwin,
superfluously troubled about his attire, met them with grim endeavour
at politeness; their gravity, a result of shyness, he misinterpreted,
supposing them to hold aloof from a young man who had been in their
father's employ. But before he could suffer much from the necessity of
formal conversation the door opened to admit yet another young lady, a
perfect stranger to him. Her age was about seventeen, but she had
nothing of the sprightly grace proverbially connected with that time of
life in girls; her pale and freckled visage expressed a haughty
reserve, intensified as soon as her eye fell upon the visitor. She had
a slight but well-proportioned figure, and a mass of auburn hair
carelessly arranged.

'My sister,' said Christian, glancing at Godwin. 'Marcella, you
recognise Mr. Peak.'

'Oh yes,' the girl replied, as she came forward, and made a sudden
offer of her hand.

She too had been present the other day at Whitelaw. Her 'Oh yes'
sounded offensive to Godwin, yet in shaking hands with her he felt a
warm pressure, and it flattered him when he became aware tha