e was
concerned herself she had always been anxious that her boys should remain
at Bowick. And so the two Cliffords came back to their old beds in the
old room.

Mary, when she first arrived at Carstairs, hardly knew how to carry
herself. Lady Bracy was very cordial and the Earl friendly, but for the
first two days nothing was said about Carstairs. There was no open
acknowledgment of her position. But then she had expected none; and
though her tongue was burning to talk, of course she did not say a word.
But before a week was over Lady Bracy had begun, and by the end of the
fortnight Lord Bracy had given her a beautiful brooch. "That means," said
Lady Bracy in the confidence of her own little sitting-room up-stairs,
"that he looks upon you as his daughter."

"Does it?"

"Yes, my dear, yes." Then they fell to kissing each other, and did nothing
but talk about Carstairs and all his perfections, and his unalterable
love, and how these three years could be made to wear themselves away,
till the conversation,--simmering over as such conversation is wont to
do,--gave the whole household to understand that Miss Wortle was staying
there as Lord Carstairs's future bride.

Of course she stayed over the Christmas, or went back to Bowick for a
week, and then returned to Carstairs, so that she might tell her mother
everything, and hear of the six new boys who were to come after the
holidays. "Papa couldn't take both the Buncombes," said Mrs. Wortle in
her triumph, "and one must remain till midsummer. Sir George did say that
it must be two or none, but he had to give way. I wanted papa to have
another bed in the east room, but he wouldn't hear of it."

Mary went back for the Christmas and Carstairs came; and the house was
full, and everybody knew of the engagement. She walked with him, and rode
with him, and danced with him, and talked secrets with him,--as though
there were no Oxford, no degree before him. No doubt it was very
imprudent, but the Earl and the Countess knew all about it. What might
be, or would be, or was the end of such folly, it is not my purpose here
to tell. I fear that there was trouble before them. It may, however, be
possible that the degree should be given up on the score of love, and Lord
Carstairs should marry his bride,--at any rate when he came of age.

As to the school, it certainly suffered nothing by the Doctor's
generosity, and when last I heard of Mr. Peacocke, the Bishop had offer