"She is unhappy, disappointed, I have sometimes thought almost frightened. She is much changed. Robert is not kind to her, and he ought to be ashamed of himself. I wonder if my intended husband will act as Robert has done?" "Sir Thomas is much in love with you." "Robert was much in love with Dora. See how it ends. He sits reading, or he lies asleep on the sofa the evenings he is with her--and he used to feel as if the day was not long enough to tell her how lovely and how dear she was. I suppose Sir Thomas will act in the same way." "I do not think he will." "He had better not." "Oh, Christina, do not talk--do not even think of such contingencies. Women should never threaten." "Pray, why not?" "Because it is dangerous to themselves to show their teeth if they cannot bite, and they cannot. Women in this country are helpless as babies." "Then there are other countries." "_Hush!_ This is uncanny talk. What a pretty suit! Are you going to wear it to-day?" "Yes, it is a spring suit, and this is a lovely spring morning. I heard the robins singing as you came upstairs." "Mother has gone to order the wedding cake--you ought to be a happy woman, Christina." "I am--and yet, Isabel, life will be bare without you. All my life long you have been my comfort, and I love you, yes, I love you dearly, Isabel." "And I love you, Christina. I shall miss you every hour of the day." Then they were both silent, they had said all they could say, and much more than was usual. Christina finished her toilet, and Isabel sat watching her, then they clasped hands and walked downstairs together, and so to the front door, which Jepson opened as Christina approached it. For a few moments Isabel stood there and watched her sister enter the waiting carriage, and felt well repaid when Christina, as the horses moved, fluttered her white handkerchief in a parting salute. Mrs. Campbell returned in time for lunch. She had quite recovered her dignity, and was indeed more than usually vaunting and exultant. "I have ordered a cake twice the ordinary size," she said, "and the small boxes, and the narrow white ribbon, in which to send friends not present at the ceremony a portion. It will be a labor to tie them up, and direct them, but there will be a house full to help you. When will your dress be done, Isabel?" "To-night, mother." "And Christina's comes to-morrow night. Mine is finished. I called at Dalmeny's to examine it. The lace is particularly effective, and it fits--which is a wonder. Will Sir Thomas be here to dinner?" "He has gone to Edinburgh for the Wynton diamonds. He has set his heart on Christina wearing them at the marriage ceremony." "I do not approve his determination. A bride, in my opinion, ought to be dressed with great simplicity. I was. A few orange blossoms, or the like of them, are enough."