"I--I am afraid it seems quick--but, mother--I hope you won't be angry, nor my father--but I said yes." "You did? and suppose my lord says no?" "Oh, mamma, he will not?" "Suppose he does?" "I should wait till he consented, I couldn't change. But indeed, mamma, he has _quite_ enough money." "The little mercenary thing! She has thought of that!" "No--no--but I thought there could be nothing else, he is so good." "Now look here, Amethyst," said Lady Haredale, standing up, and laying her hand on the girl's shoulder, "this is your first fancy?" "Mother!" "Well, yes, I supposed so. Now listen, and no one shall say I don't tell you all the truth. You are a beauty. That is a very different thing from being a pretty girl. You would have--I could ensure your having--a great success, and you might make a very great marriage. I don't think many mothers would let you marry in the country at eighteen. But, on the other hand, we're as poor as rats, as you know; if you marry young Leigh you are provided for, and if you think you love him--I believe she _is_ in love with him--all my children are susceptible! No, I won't talk you out of it." "Talking could not make any difference," said Amethyst; then suddenly--"Oh, mamma, I don't want to be wilful, I will try to be good, but please--please don't say I must not!" There was a passion in her tone, which Lady Haredale felt. "No," she said. "You _shall_ have him! How like you are to poor pretty Blanche; you shan't be talked out of your lover as she was. I'll not have it on my conscience. But does the child think she knows her own mind?" Amethyst felt indescribably jarred and hurt by her mothers manner. Her cheeks burnt and her eyes were bright, as she answered with equal straightforwardness, and with unexpected passion-- "I should have liked to be a beauty, and have a success; I know I should like it. But that's all nothing, compared--compared to _him_," as the tears came in floods, and she hid her face. "Ah!" said Lady Haredale.--"Poor little girl, it's a shame to tease her! You are a good child, my pretty Amethyst, and you shall stay good, if you can. Come, kiss me and forgive me, and you shall have your way." Amethyst threw herself into her mother's arms, and, in clinging kisses, soon forgot her vexation. "Mother was right to make sure;" and she only felt that she had the kindest and tenderest mother ever known, and the most sympathetic. For Lady Haredale, with a sudden change of tone, began to question her, and listened to the little idyll with as fresh and eager an interest as if she had been Amethyst's sister or school friend. "My darling, its lovely. It's the sweetest thing I ever knew, and I won't let anything interfere with it." CHAPTER EIGHT. THE EARTHLY PARADISE.