"Now, my dear Minnie, I must beg to differ. I might give up my judgment to you on a point of--of--" (Miss Chubb hesitated a long time here, for she found it extremely difficult to think of any subject on which she didn't know best)--"on a point of the dead languages, for instance. But on this point I maintain that I have a certain penetration and coo-doyl. And I say that it is a case with Mr. Diamond and little Rhoda--at least on his side. And of course she would be ready to jump out of her skin for joy, only I don't think the idea has entered into her head as yet. How should it, in her station? Of course----. But as to him----! If I ever read a human countenance in my life, he admires her--oh, over head and ears! To see him staring at her from behind your sofa when she sits by Mrs. Errington----! No, no, my dear; depend upon it, I am correct. And I don't know but what it might do very well, because, although educated, Mr. Diamond is a man of no birth. And the girl is pretty, and will have all old Max's savings. So that really----" Thus, and much more in the same disjointed fashion, Miss Chubb. Minnie felt like one who is conscious of having swallowed a deadly but slow poison. For the present there is no pain; only a horrible watchful apprehension of the moment when the pain shall begin. Some faculties of her mind seemed curiously numb. But the active part of it accepted the truth of what had been said, unhesitatingly. Miss Chubb paused at last breathless. "You look fagged, Minnie," she said. "Have I tired you? Mrs. Bodkin will scold me if I have." "No; you have not tired me. But I think I will go and be quiet in my own room. Tell mamma I don't want any lunch. Please ring for Jane." Mrs. Bodkin came into the room in her quick, noiseless way. She had heard the bell. Minnie reiterated her wish to be wheeled into her own room, and left quiet. She spoke briefly and peremptorily, and her desire was promptly complied with. "I never cross her, or talk to her much when she is not feeling well," whispered Mrs. Bodkin to Miss Chubb; thereby checking a lively stream of suggestions, regrets, and inquiries which the spinster was beginning to pour forth in her most girlish manner. "There, my darling," said her mother, preparing to close the door of Minnie's room softly. "If any of the Saturday people come I shall say you are not well enough to see them to-day." "No!" cried Minnie, with sharp decisiveness. "I wish to come into the drawing-room by-and-by. Don't send them away. It will be Algy's last Saturday. I mean to come into the drawing-room." CHAPTER XII.