"And as to what I shall do next, you will see that very shortly. I am very sorry, mother, to disappoint you, but after I am married you can see me wearing the dresses, and----" "I do not wish to see them at all now." "Very well." "All your life, until lately, you have been a good obedient daughter; the change in you is the work of that wicked, wicked woman Dora Newton." "All my life until lately, I was kept in a state of nothingness--but I am no longer a nonentity. I have come into a human existence, and you are right, it is Dora Campbell's doing, and I wish I knew how to thank her." "It would be thanking the devil, for teaching you to sin." "Mother, you are spoiling my day, and I have a great deal to do. Good-morning, or will you come with me?" "I will not come one footstep with you. How can you expect it?" At these words Christina left the room, and Mrs. Campbell began a complaint illustrated by sobs, and sighs, and intermittent tears. She told Isabel that all the pleasure she expected from her child's marriage had been taken from her. She confessed that she had spoken a little to many people of the rich and beautiful presents Christina had received, and now she would not be able to show one of them; and no one would believe what she had said--and she could not blame people if they did not. "Oh, Isabel!" she cried, "for my sake, and for all our sakes, Christina must send her trunks here for a week or two. Do try and persuade her. She always listens to you." "It is quite useless, mother; she has made up her mind to send them to her new home. I rather think some have gone there already, for two weeks ago there were eight trunks at madame's, and last week I only saw three." "Why did you not tell me? Oh, why did you not give me a chance to persuade the cruel, selfish girl? So wrong! So wicked! So ungrateful! You know, Isabel, I gave her five hundred pounds to buy that very clothing--I had a right to see it--yes, I had--I had--and it is shameful!" "Mother, you could have gone with Christina to her dressmaker's. You could not expect her to bring all her things here, they would certainly have been shown and handled--they might have been ill-used as Dora's pretty clothes were. Oh, mother, I do not blame Christina at all! I think she acted for the best." "So you also are joining the enemy--getting Newtonized like Christina. Do you also hope to become a beauty, and a belle, and marry a baronet?" "Mother, you are throwing sarcasm away. I have no hopes left for myself. It is too late for me to develop in any direction." "Whose fault is that?" "Destiny's fault, I suppose. I was nursing the sick, when I ought to have been in school and in society."