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her nay to yea.”
    “Well, you may,” conceded Miss Charing. “Only I am very well able to speak for myself, I thank you, Hugh! Are you wishful of making me an offer?”
    Lord Dolphinton, his mission honourably discharged, turned an interested gaze upon his clerical cousin; Lord Biddenden exclaimed: “This is intolerable!” and Hugh himself looked a trifle out of countenance. He hesitated, before saying, with a constrained smile: “There is a degree of awkwardness attached to this situation which might, I fancy, be more easily overcome were we to converse alone together.”
    “Yes, but you cannot expect George and poor Dolph to remove to a room where there is no fire!” objected Miss Charing reasonably. “It would be useless to apply to Uncle Matthew for leave to kindle any more fires tonight: you must know that! Nothing puts him into such a taking as habits of wasteful extravagance, and he would be bound to think it a great waste of coals to make a fire for George or for Dolph. And as for our situation’s being awkward, if I do not regard that I am sure you need not. In fact, I am happy to be able to tell as many of you as I can that I have not the smallest wish to marry any of you!”
    “Very likely you have not, Kitty, but that you should express yourself with such heat—or, I may say, at all !—is very unbecoming in you. I am astonished that Miss Fishguard—an excellent woman, I am sure!—should not have taught you a little more conduct!” It occurred to Lord Biddenden that a quarrel with Kitty would scarcely forward the project he had in view, and he added, in a more cordial tone: “But, indeed, I must own that such a situation as this must be considered in itself to have passed the bounds of propriety! Believe me, Kitty, I feel for you! You have been made the object of what I cannot but deem a distempered freak.”
    “Yes, but fortunately I am very well acquainted with you all, so that I need have no scruple in speaking the truth to you,” Kitty pointed out. “I don’t want Uncle Matthew’s odious fortune, and as for marrying any gentleman who offered for me only because I have the advantage of a handsome dependence, I would rather wear the willow all my days! And let me tell you, Hugh, that I did not think that you would do such a thing!”
    The Rector, not unnaturally, was a little confounded by this sudden attack, and made her no immediate reply. Lord Dolphinton, who had listened intently to what she had to say, was pleased to find that he was able to elucidate. “Shouldn’t have come,” he told his rigid cousin. “Not the thing for a man in orders. George shouldn’t have come either. Not in orders, but not invited.”
    “Not want to inherit a fortune!” exclaimed Biddenden, the enormity of such a declaration making it possible for him to ignore Dolphinton’s unwelcome intrusion into the argument. “Pooh! nonsense! You do not know what you are saying!”
    “On the contrary,” said the Rector, making a recovery, “her sentiments do her honour! My dear Kitty, none is more conscious than myself of what must be your reflections upon this occasion. Indeed, you must believe that I share them! That my great-uncle would make me the recipient of his fortune was a thought that has never crossed my head: if I have ever indulged my brain with speculations on the nature of his intentions, I have supposed that he would bequeath to his adopted child a respectable independence, and the residue of his estate to that member of the family whom we know to be his favourite great-nephew. None of us, I fancy, could have called in question the propriety of such a disposition; none of us can have imagined that he would, whatever the event, have left that adopted child destitute upon the world.” He saw the startled look in Miss Charing’s eyes, and said, with great gentleness: “That, dearest Kitty, is what he has assured us he will do, should we or you refuse to obey his —I do not scruple to say—