‘Come up to my room and look at the things, dear,’ said Mrs. Dulcimer; and then it occurred to Bella that her hostess had something particular to say to her. She had heard from Cyril that day, perhaps, or had got news of him by a side wind. Bella’s heart beat ever so fast at the idea. They went up to Mrs. Dulcimer’s bedroom, a large old-fashioned chamber, with an immense four-post bedstead and flowery chintz curtains, a muslin-draped dressing-table, adorned with a great many china pots, and a pin-cushion that was a noteworthy feature. Mrs. Dulcimer’s devotional books--with a great many markers in them, looking as if they were read immensely--were arranged on either side of the looking-glass. She used to read Taylor’s ‘Holy Living’ while Rebecca put her hair in papers of an evening. She did not read the ‘Holy Dying.’ It seemed a great deal too soon for that. There was a bright fire, and the chintz-covered sofa was wheeled in front of it. Between the fire and the sofa was Mrs. Dulcimer’s work-table, and on the table the missionary basket full of ingenious trifles, useful or useless. Babies’ socks, muffatees, pincushions of every shape and design, and a variety of the aggravating family of mats. ‘Bella,’ said Mrs. Dulcimer, when they were seated on the sofa, ‘I have something particular to say to you.’ And then the Vicar’s wife told Bella her plan for marrying Kenrick and Beatrix, and how Beatrix had refused Kenrick on account of her attachment to his cousin. ‘Isn’t it a pity, Bella?’ she asked, after lengthily expounding all this. ‘Yes,’ answered Bella, looking thoughtful, ‘they would have suited each other very well, I should think.’ ‘Think!’ cried Mrs. Dulcimer. ‘There’s no thinking about it. They were made for each other.’ Mrs. Dulcimer’s couples always were made for each other. It is odd how many of them turned out misfits. Bella was reflecting that if Beatrix were happily married to Sir Kenrick Culverhouse, her sin about the sealed letter would weigh less heavily on her conscience--or, indeed, need not weigh at all. What can any one ask more than happiness? And, in the eye of the world, Kenrick was a much more suitable husband for a young woman of fortune than Cyril could possibly be.