"Gertrude has her own way with her mother altogether. And of course a daughter cannot really be turned out. If she tells me to go I suppose I must go." "I should ask Uncle Tom," said Ayala. "She could not make you go out into the street. When she had to get rid of me, she could send me here in exchange; but she can't say now that you don't suit, and have me back again." "Oh, Ayala, it is so miserable. I feel that I do not know what to do with myself." "Nor do I," said Ayala, jumping up from the bed on which she was sitting. "It does seem to be so cross-grained. Nobody will let you marry, and everybody will make me." "Do they still trouble you about Tom?" "It is not Tom now, Lucy. Another man has come up." "As a lover?" "Oh, yes; quite so. His name is,--such a name, Lucy,--his name is Colonel Jonathan Stubbs." "That is Isadore's friend,--the man who lives at Drumcaller." "Exactly. He told me that Mr. Hamel was at Drumcaller with him. And now he wants me to be his wife." "Do you not like him?" "That is the worst part of it all, Lucy. If I did not like him I should not mind it half so much. It is just because I like him so very much that I am so very unhappy. His hair is just the colour of Aunt Emmeline's big shawl." "What does that signify?" "And his mouth stretches almost from ear to ear." "I shouldn't care a bit for his mouth." "I don't think I do much, because he does look so good-natured when he laughs. Indeed he is always the most good-natured man that ever lived." "Has he got an income enough for marriage?" asked Lucy, whose sorrows were already springing from that most fertile source of sorrowing. "Plenty they tell me,--though I do not in the least know what plenty means." "Then Ayala why should you not have him?" "Because I can't," said Ayala. "How is a girl to love a man if she does not love him. Liking has nothing to do with it. You don't think liking ought to have anything to do with it?" This question had not been answered when Aunt Margaret came into the room, declaring that the Tringle man-servant, who had walked across the park with Miss Dormer, was waxing impatient. The sisters, therefore, were separated, and Lucy returned to Queen's Gate. CHAPTER XXVIII. MISS DOCIMER. "I tell you fairly that I think you altogether wrong;--that it is cowardly, unmanly, and disgraceful. I don't mean, you see, to put what you call a fine point upon it." "No, you don't." "It is one of those matters on which a person must speak the truth or not speak at all. I should not have spoken unless you forced it upon me. You don't care for her in the least." "That's true. I do not know that I am especially quick at what you call caring for young ladies. If I care for anybody it is for you." "I suppose so; but that may as well be dropped for the present. You mean to marry this girl simply because she has got a lot of money?" "Exactly that;--as you before long will marry some gentleman only because he has got money."