The rest of the journey was hurried and feverish. Lady Brotherton was not hard-hearted; she melted every day when in Liddy’s company, and under the influence of her son’s persuasions and the sight of his happiness; but in the night hardened again, occupying herself with reminiscences of former hopes, and summoning up the ideal woman whom she had intended Lionel to marry, a girl who should be noble if possible, rich and beautiful, and with the highest connections, adding to the dignity of the house of Brotherton, as well as the happiness of its future head; and in this alternation the long journey was got through. There was a night in the railway between Marseilles and Paris, a night at Paris, a night in London, in every one of which this freezing process was performed. Every morning the same round had to be gone over again; by noon the ice was melted; by evening Lady Brotherton would listen between tears and smiles to her son’s picture of his future life and all the happiness she would have in her daughter; and would kiss Liddy and bid her good night almost with an enthusiasm of tenderness. But before morning all this was undone, and she got up as unwilling as ever. By common consent Sir John was told nothing of it while the journey lasted. The information was only to be given him when he was safe at home, and his fatigues over. It was evening when Lydia, escorted by Harry, left finally the party of which she had so long formed part, and with which now her fate was linked so closely. She had stayed two days in London, days during which Lady Brotherton had been very kind to her--in the afternoon. And she was very kind to her on that evening, when she took her in her arms in a farewell embrace. She cried over Liddy, and called her my child, and bade God bless her. “I don’t know what I shall do without you. It will be like losing my right hand,” Lady Brotherton said. And Lionel, as was natural, took a still more tender leave at the railway. “I shall not be long after you,” he whispered, with his head projected half-way into the carriage. Liddy shook her head. “I don’t build any hopes on that. Your mother will----” “What will my mother do? If you think I will allow myself to be coerced by anyone----” “But I shall!” said Lydia. “It must never, never be, Lionel, unless she is pleased.” “She will be pleased; but it shall be anyhow, whether she is pleased or not.” “Oh, no,” Lydia said.