‘I should be the last to press any child of mine to marry against her inclination,’ she said, ‘but I should like to see one of my daughters a lady. Bella has been a lady in all her little ways from the time she could run alone, and I am sure she would become the highest position--yes, even such a station as Mr. Piper, with his fortune, could give her. If there was anything better or brighter before her--any chance of her getting a young good-looking husband able to support her comfortably--I wouldn’t say marry Mr. Piper. But I’m sure I can’t see how any girl is to get well married in Little Yafford, where the young men----’ ‘Haven’t one sixpence to rub against another,’ interrupted Mr. Scratchell, impatiently. ‘And I know what life is for those that have to study the outlay of every penny, and to keep their brains always on the rack in order just barely to pay their way,’ continued Mrs. Scratchell. Bella gave a deep, despondent sigh. It was all true that these worldly-minded parents were saying. She was no romantic girl to believe in an impossible future. She knew that for women of the Scratchell breed life was hard and dry, like the crusts of the stale loaves which she so often encountered at the family breakfast-table. What was there before her if she persisted in refusing this high fortune that was ready to be poured into her lap? Another rebellious family to teach--an unending procession of verbs, and pianoforte exercises, dreary fantasias, with all the old familiar airs turned upside down, and twisted this way and that, and drawn out to uttermost attenuation, like a string of Indian-rubber. If nothing else killed her, Bella thought, she must assuredly die of those hateful fantasias, the ever-lasting triplets, the scampering arpeggios, stumbling and halting, like the canter of a lame horse. Mr. Scratchell heard that long sigh and guessed its meaning. He checked his loud indignation, all of a sudden, and had recourse to diplomacy. The girl’s own sense was beginning to argue against her foolishness. ‘Well, my dear,’ he said, quite amiably, ‘if you’ve made up your mind there’s no use in our saying any more about it. Your mother and I would have been proud to see you settled in such a splendid way--the envy of all the neighbourhood--holding your head as high as the best of ’em. But let that pass. You’d better look out for another situation. With so many mouths as I’ve got to feed, I can’t afford to encourage idleness. There must be no twiddling of thumbs in this family. The _Yorkshire Times_ comes out on Saturday. There’ll be just time for us to get an advertisement in.’ Bella gave another sigh, an angry one this time. ‘You’re very sharp with me, father,’ she said. ‘I should have thought you’d have been glad to have me at home for a little while, with my time disengaged.’