Harrington was in a difficulty. He felt sure this was not her real motive; but he did not like to say so harshly to an unhappy girl. He took a moderate course. “Not just now, dear,” said he. “What! am I to wait till she dies?” cried Zoe, getting agitated at his opposition. “Be reasonable, dear. You know you are the mistress of this house. Do not desert me just now. Consider the position. It is a very chattering county. I entertain Mademoiselle Klosking; I could not do otherwise when she was nearly killed in my hall. But for my sister to go away while she remains here would have a bad effect.” “It is too late to think of that, Harrington. The mischief is done, and you must plead your eccentricity. Why should I bear the blame? I never approved it.” “You would have sent her to an inn, eh?” “No; but Miss Gale offered to take her.” “Then I am to understand that you propose to mark your reprobation of my conduct by leaving my house.” “What! publicly? Oh no. You may say to yourself that your sister could not bear to stay under the same roof with Mr. Severne's mistress. But this chattering county shall never know my mind. My aunt is dangerously ill. She lives but thirty miles off. She is a fit object of pity. She is a--respectable--lady; she is all alone; no female physician, no flirt turned Sister of Charity, no woman-hater, to fetch and carry for her. And so I shall go to her. I am your sister, not your slave. If you grudge me your horses, I will go on foot.” Vizard was white with wrath, but governed himself like a man. “Go on, young lady!” said he; “go on! Jeer, and taunt, and wound the best brother any young madwoman ever had. But don't think I'll answer you as you deserve. I'm too cunning. If I was to say an unkind word to you, I should suffer the tortures of the damned. So go on!” “No, no. Forgive me, Harrington. It is your opposition that drives me wild. Oh, have pity on me! I shall go mad if I stay here. Do, pray, pray, pray let me go to Aunt Maitland!” “You shall go, Zoe. But I tell you plainly, this step will be a blow to our affection--the first.” Zoe cried at that. But as she did not withdraw her request, Harrington told her, with cold civility, that she must be good enough to be ready directly after breakfast to-morrow, and take as little luggage as she could with convenience to herself. Horses were sent on that night to the “Fox,” an inn half-way between Vizard Court and Miss Maitland's place. In the morning a light barouche, with a sling for luggage, came round, and Zoe was soon seated in it. Then, to her surprise, Harrington came out and sat beside her. She was pleased at this and said, “What! are you going with me, dear, all that way?” “Yes, to save appearances,” said he; and took out a newspaper to read. This froze Zoe, and she retired within herself.