Lesley was silent; she did not quite know what "a mixture of people" would be like. "I am so afraid for you, darling," said her mother, pleadingly. "Afraid lest you should be drawn into relationships and connections that you might afterwards regret: Do you understand me? Will you promise me to make no vows of any sort while you are away from me? Only for one year, my child--promise me for the year." "I don't think I quite understand you, mamma." "Must I put it so plainly? I mean this, Lesley. Don't engage yourself to be married while you are in your father's house." "Oh, that is easily promised!" said Lesley, with a smile of frank amusement and relief. "It may not be so easy to carry out as you think. Give me your word, darling. You promise not to form any engagement of marriage for a year? You promise me that?" "Oh, yes, mamma, I promise," said the girl, so lightly that Lady Alice almost felt that she had done an unwarrantable thing in exacting a promise only half understood. But she swallowed her rising qualms, and went oh, as if exculpating herself-- "It is a safeguard. I do not ask you to marry only a man that I approve--I simply ask you to wait until I can help you with my advice. It will be no loss to you in any way. You are too young to think of these things yet; but it is on the young that unscrupulous persons love to prey--and therefore I give you a warning." "I am quite sure that I shall not need it," said Lesley, confidently; "and if I did, I could write and ask your advice----" "No, no! Oh, how could I forget to tell you? You are not to write to me while you are in your father's house." "Oh, mamma, that is cruel." "It is _his_ doing, not mine. Intercede with _him_, if you like. That was one of the conditions--that for this one year you should have no intercourse with me. And for the next year you will have no intercourse with him. And after that, you may choose for yourself." But this deprivation of correspondence affected Lesley more powerfully than even the prospect of separation--to which she was used already. She threw herself into her mother's arms and wept bitterly for a few moments. Then it occurred to her that she was acting neither thoughtfully nor courageously, and that her grief would only grieve her mother, and could remedy nothing. So she sat up and dried her eyes, and tried to respond cheerfully when Lady Alice spoke a few soothing words. But in the whole course of her short life poor Lesley had never been so miserable as she was that night.