with either of them alone she was always full of it. To the
Doctor she communicated all her fears and all her doubts, showing only too
plainly that she would be altogether broken-hearted if anything should
interfere with the grandeur and prosperity which seemed to be partly
within reach, but not altogether within reach of her darling child. If
he, Carstairs, should prove to be a recreant young lord! If Aristotle and
Socrates should put love out of his heart! If those other wicked young
lords at Christ-Church were to teach him that it was a foolish thing for a
young lord to become engaged to his tutor's daughter before he had taken
his degree! If some better born young lady were to come in his way and
drive Mary out of his heart! No more lovely or better girl could be found
to do so;--of that she was sure. To the latter assertion the Doctor
agreed, telling her that, as it was so, she ought to have a stronger trust
in her daughter's charms,--telling her also, with somewhat sterner voice,
that she should not allow herself to be so disturbed by the glories of the
Bracy coronet. In this there was, I think, some hypocrisy. Had the
Doctor been as simple as his wife in showing her own heart, it would
probably have been found that he was as much set upon the coronet as she.

Then Mrs. Wortle would carry the Doctor's wisdom to her daughter. "Papa
says, my dear, that you shouldn't think of it too much."

"I do think of him, mamma. I do love him now, and of course I think of
him."

"Of course you do, my dear;--of course you do. How should you not think
of him when he is all in all to you? But papa means that it can hardly be
called an engagement yet."

"I don't know what it should be called; but of course I love him. He can
change it if he likes."

"But you shouldn't think of it, knowing his rank and wealth."

"I never did, mamma; but he is what he is, and I must think of him."

Poor Mrs. Wortle did not know what special advice to give when this
declaration was made. To have held her tongue would have been the wisest,
but that was impossible to her. Out of the full heart the mouth speaks,
and her heart was very full of Lord Carstairs and of Carstairs House, and
of the diamonds which her daughter would certainly be called upon to wear
before the Queen,--if only that young man would do his duty.

Poor Mary herself probably had the worst of it. No provision was made
either for her to see her lover or to write