"Perhaps they wish to be intimate for politeness' sake," said the Honourable Isabella demurely, though her nervous hands were trembling and playing about the puckers of her dress. "I declare, sister, you are absurd, you are almost childish; as if young men--young officers--cared about politeness when there were ladies like our nieces in the case." "Well, sister," replied the Honourable Isabella tearfully, "I am sure I don't know, but for my part I would rather see Clotilde and Marie married to Captain Glen and Mr Millet than as you and dear Lady Littletown had arranged." "And you!" cried her sister; "you were as eager as anyone, and you know how it will be for their good. Our family will be raised from penury to affluence, and we shall have done our duty, I am sure." "But it seems very sad, sister--very sad indeed." "Fie, Isabella!" exclaimed the Honourable Philippa; "what would Lady Littletown think if she heard of such miserable weakness? Think, too, what would Lord Henry Moorpark or Mr Elbraham say if they knew that these young men were encouraged here? It must be stopped, or encouraged very coldly indeed. Yes, Markes, what is it?" "This box, please'm, and this little basket, please'm," said the woman. "How often have we told you, Markes, that all these things should be left to Joseph to bring up? It is not your duty," exclaimed the Honourable Philippa. "Now, let me see." The box was directed to her, so was the basket; and reading the direction by the aid of her large gold eyeglass, she afterwards cut the box string, and on opening the loose lid set free a marvellously beautiful bouquet of very choice flowers. The basket was opened, and contained another bouquet, but there was no message, no letter, with either. The Honourable Philippa gazed at the Honourable Isabella, and that lady returned the meaning gaze; then they sent Markes away with the empty box and basket, leaving the elderly sisters to commune alone, and to whisper their satisfaction, in spite of a little hanging back on the part of the Honourable Isabella, that matters had progressed so well. Meanwhile there was a cloudiness in the moral atmosphere upstairs which betokened a storm. Ruth saw it and trembled, for hour by hour her cousins had seemed to her to change. She did not know how it was--in fact, she was puzzled; but the change was very natural. The two girls had been treated somewhat after the fashion of flowers, and grown on and on in their cool retirement until they had attained to their full development and beauty, though as yet only in a state of bud. Then they had suddenly been placed in the full blaze of society's sunshine.