new windows in the cathedral: it will be a good opportunity. And dine here afterwards to talk over the adventures.'
'Thank you-that last I cannot do. The Baron was saying it would be the first time of having us all together.'
'Very well, besides the great news. I wish I was going back with you; it is a tame conclusion, only to go to bed. If I was but to be on the scene of action to-morrow. Tell the Baron that-no, use your influence to get me invited to dinner on Saturday-I really want to speak to him.'
'Very well,' said Claude, 'I'll do my best. Good-night.'
'Good-night,' said the Marquis. 'You have both done wonders. Still, I wish it was to come over again.'
'Few people would say so,' said Lily, as they drove off.
'Few would say so if they thought so,' said Claude. 'I have been quite admiring the way Rotherwood has gone on-enjoying the fun as if he was nobody-just as Reginald might, making other people happy, and making no secret of his satisfaction in it all.'
'Very free from affectation and nonsense,' said Lily, 'as William said of him last Christmas. You were in a fine fright about his speech, Claude.'
'More than I ought to have been. I should have known that he is too simple-minded and straightforward to say anything but just what he ought. What a nice person that Miss Aylmer is.'
'Is not she, Claude? I was very glad you had her for a neighbour. Happy the children who have her for a governess. How sensible and gentle she seems. The Westons-But oh! Claude, tell me one thing, did you hear-'
'Well, what?'
'I am ashamed to say. That preposterous report about papa. Why, Rotherwood himself seems to believe it, and Mr. Carrington began to congratulate-'
'The public has bestowed so many ladies on the Baron, that I wonder it is not tired,' said Claude. 'It is time it should patronise William instead.'
'Rotherwood is not the public,' said Lily, 'and he is the last person to say anything impertinent of papa. And I myself heard papa call her Alethea, which he never used to do. Claude, what do you think?'
After a long pause Claude slowly replied, 'Think? Why, I think Miss Weston must be a person of great courage. She begins the world as a grandmother, to say nothing of her eldest daughter and son being considerably her seniors.'
'I do not believe it,' said Lily. 'Do you, Claude?'
'I cannot make up my mind-it is too amazing. My hair is still standing on end. When it comes down I may be able to tell you something.'
Such were the only answers that Lily could extract from him. He did not sufficiently disbelieve the report to treat it with scorn, yet he did not sufficiently credit it to resign himself to such a state of things.
On coming home Lily found Emily and Jane in her room, eagerly discussing the circumstances which, to their prejudiced eyes, seemed strong confirmation. While their tongues were in full career the door opened and Eleanor appeared. She told them it was twelve o'clock, turned Jane out of the room, and made Emily and Lily promise not to utter another syllable that night.
CHAPTER XXVI: THE CRISIS
''Is this your care of the nest?' cried he,
'It comes of your gadding abroad,' said she.'
To the consternation of the disconsolate damsels, the first news they heard the next morning was that Mr. Mohun was gone to breakfast at Broomhill, and the intelligence was received by Frank Hawkesworth with a smile which they thought perfectly malicious. Frank, William, and Reginald talked a little at breakfast about the
The past day had not been spent in vain by Ada. Mrs. Weston had led her by degrees to open her heart to her, had made her perceive the real cause of her father's displeasure, see her faults, and promise to confess them, a promise which she performed with many tears, as soon as she saw Eleanor in the morning.
On telling this to Emily Eleanor was surprised to find that she was not listened to with much satisfaction. Emily seemed to think it a piece of interference on the part of Mrs. Weston, and would not allow that it was likely to be the beginning of improvement in Ada.
'The words were put into her mouth,' said she; 'and they were an easy way of escaping from her present state of disgrace.'
'On the contrary,' said Eleanor, 'she seemed to think that she justly deserved to be in disgrace.'
'Did you think so?' said Emily, in a careless tone.
'You are in a strange mood to-day, Emily,' said Eleanor.
'Am I? I did not know it. I wonder where Lily is.'
Lily was in her own room, teaching Phyllis. Phyllis was rather wild and flighty that morning, scarcely able to command her attention, and every now and then bursting into an irrepressible fit of laughter. Reginald and Phyllis found it most difficult to avoid betraying Marianne, and as soon as luncheon was over, they agreed to set out on a long expedition into the woods, where they might enjoy their wonderful secret together. Just at this time Mr. Mohun returned. He came into the drawing-room, and Lilias, perceiving that the threatened conversation with Emily was about to take place, made her escape to her own room, whither she was presently followed by Jane, who could not help running after her to report the great news that Emily was to be deposed.
'I am sure of it,' said she. 'They sent me out of the room, but not before I had seen certain symptoms.'
'It is very hard that poor Emily should bear all the blame,' said Lily.
'You have managed to escape it very well,' said Jane, laughing. 'You have all the thanks and praise. I suppose it is because the intimacy with Miss Weston was your work.'
'I will not believe that nonsense,' said Lily.
'Seeing is believing, they say,' said Jane. 'Remember, it is not only me. Think of Rotherwood. And Maurice guesses it too, and Redgie told him great things were going on.'
While Jane was speaking they heard the drawing-room door open, and in another moment Emily came in.
It was true that, as Jane said, she had been deposed. Mr. Mohun had begun by saying, 'Emily, can you bring me such an account of your expenditure as I desired?'
'I scarcely think I can, papa,' said Emily. 'I am sorry to say that my accounts are rather in confusion.'
'That is to say, that you have been as irregular in the management of your own affairs as you have in mine. Well, I have paid your debt to Lilias, and from this time forward I require of you to reduce your expenses to the sum which I consider suitable, and which both Eleanor and Lilias have found perfectly sufficient. And now, Emily, what have you to say for the management of my affairs? Can you offer any excuse for your utter failure?'
'Indeed, papa, I am very sorry I vexed you,' said Emily. 'Our illness last autumn-different things-I know all has not been quite as it should be; but I hope that in future I shall profit by past experience.'
'I hope so,' said Mr. Mohun, 'but I am afraid to trust the management of the family to you any longer. Your trial is over, and you have failed, merely because you would not exert yourself from wilful indolence and negligence. You have not attended to any one thing committed to your charge-you have placed temptation in Esther's way-and allowed Ada to take up habits which will not be easily corrected. I should not think myself justified in leaving you in charge any longer, lest worse mischief should ensue. I wish you to give up the keys to Eleanor for the present.'
Mr. Mohun would perhaps have added something if Emily had shown signs of repentance, or even of sorrow. The moment was at least as painful to him as to her, and he had prepared himself to expect either hysterical tears, with vows of amendment, or else an argument on her side that she was right and everybody else wrong. But there was nothing of the kind; Emily neither spoke nor looked; she only carried the tokens of her authority to Eleanor, and left the room. She thought she knew well enough the cause of her deposition, considered it quite as a matter of course, and departed on purpose to avoid hearing the announcement which she expected to follow.
She was annoyed by finding her sisters in her room, and especially irritated by Jane's tone, as she eagerly
