Arthur Tremayne! What did Blanche care for Arthur Tremayne? "I am sore afeard, Blanche, lest thou shouldst forget thee. It will not matter for Clare. If he be a parson's son, yet is he a Tremayne of Tremayne,--quite good enough for Clare, if no better hap should chance unto her. But thou art of better degree by thy father's side, and we look to have thee well matched, according thereto. Thy father will not hear of Don John, because he is a Papist, and a Spaniard to boot: elsewise I had seen no reason to gainsay thee, poor child! But of course he must have his way. Only have a care, Blanche, and take not up with none too mean for thy degree,--specially now, while thou art out of our wardship." There was no answer from Blanche. "Mistress Tremayne will have a care of thee, maybe," pursued her mother, unfurling her fan--merely as a plaything, for the weather did not by any means require it. "Yet 'tis but nature she should work to have Arthur well matched, and she wot, of course, that thou shouldst be a rare catch for him. So do thou have a care, Blanche." And Lady Enville, leaning back among her cushions, furled and unfurled her handsome fan, alike unconscious and uncaring that she had been guilty of the greatest injustice to poor Thekla Tremayne. There was a rap at the door, and enter Rachel, looking as if she had imbibed an additional pound of starch since leaving the room. "Sister, would you have Blanche's tartaryn gown withal, or no?" "The crimson? Let me see," said Lady Enville reflectively. "Ay, Rachel,--she may as well have it. I would not have thee wear it but for Sundays and holy days, Blanche. For common days, _there_, thy blue kersey is full good enough." Without any answer, and deliberately ignoring the presence of Blanche, Rachel stalked away. It was a weary interval until Sir Thomas, returned. Now and then Clare flitted in and out, to ask her mother's wishes concerning different things: Jennet came in with fresh wood for the fire; Lady Enville continued to give cautions and charges, as they occurred to her, now regarding conduct and now costume: but a miserable time Blanche found it. She felt herself, and she fancied every one else considered her, in dire disgrace. Yet beneath all the mortification, the humiliation, and the grief over which she was brooding, there was a conviction in the depth of Blanche's heart, resist it as she might, that the father who was crossing her will was a wiser and truer friend to her than the mother who would have granted it. Sir Thomas came at last. He wore a very tired look, and seemed as if he had grown several years older in that day.