"I wonder what that officer's name is," thought Clotilde, "and whether that good-looking boy is his squire?" Rather a romantic notion this, by the way, and it gave Marcus Glen in the young lady's ideas the position of knight; but it was excusable, for her life had been secluded in the extreme. "What a very handsome man that dark officer was that we nearly met! but I don't like his looks," mused Marie; and then, as Ruth was thinking that she would rather be getting on with some of the needlework that fell to her share than listening to her aunt's lecture--one of the periodical discourses it was their fate to hear--there was another sharp "Hem!" "Marriage," said the Honourable Miss Dymcox, "is an institution that has existed from the earliest ages of the world." Had a bomb-shell suddenly fallen into the chilly, meanly-furnished drawing-room, where every second article seemed to wear a brown-holland pinafore, and the frame of the old-fashioned mirror was tightly draped in yellow canvas, the young ladies could not have looked more astonished. In their virgin innocency the word "marriage" had been tabooed to them, and consequently was never mentioned, being a subject held to be unholy for the young people's ears. Certainly there were times when the wedding of some lady they knew was canvassed; but it was with extreme delicacy, and not in the downright fashion of Miss Philippa's present speech. "Ages of the world," assented the Honourable Isabella, opening a pale drab fan, and using it gently, as if the subject made her warm. "And," continued Miss Philippa, "I think it right to speak to you children, now that you are verging upon womanhood, because it is possible that some day or another you might either of you receive a proposal." "That sun-browned officer with the heavy moustache," thought Clotilde, whose cheeks began to glow. "She thinks he may try to be introduced. Oh, I wish he may!" "When your poor--I say it with tears, Isabella." "Yes, sister, with tears," assented that lady. "I am addressing you, Clotilde and Marie," continued Miss Philippa. "You, Ruth, of course cannot be answerable for the stroke of fate which placed you in our hands, an adopted child." "An adopted child," said Miss Isabella, closing her fan, for the moral atmosphere seemed cooler. "When your poor mother, your poor, weak mamma, children, wantonly and recklessly, and in opposition to the wishes of all her relatives, insisted upon marrying Mr Julian Riversley, who was never even acknowledged by any member of our family--" "I remember papa as being very handsome, and with dark hair," said Marie. "Marie!" exclaimed the Honourable Misses Dymcox in a breath. "I am surprised at you!" "Tray be silent, child," added Miss Philippa. "Yes, aunt." "I say your poor mamma must have known that she was degrading the whole family--degrading us, Isabella." "Yes, sister, degrading us," assented that lady. "By marrying a penniless man of absolutely no birth."