“But you would not like her to go with the Selbys or the Pilgrims--people not fit to be in the same room with her. _I_ should not like that,” young Brotherton said. And Mrs. Joscelyn’s pale countenance coloured with pleasure to think that her child should be so determined, and her young cousin so approving. This sudden appreciation of herself was late, but yet it was pleasant, though also embarrassing. And after this there were continual remonstrances and arguments, Liddy holding to her point, her mother fighting desperately against it. As for Ralph Joscelyn, he separated himself at once from the feminine part of his household. “Go to what tomfoolery you like,” he said, with his usual courtesy, “but don’t ask me; I’ve nought to do with such nonsense.” Mrs. Joscelyn was then driven to the end of her forces. She was disturbed too about Lydia’s ball-dress, which Joan would fain have gone to Carlisle for and been “done with,” in her energetic way; but the mother had no confidence in Joan’s taste. And for her part, though Joan had behaved generously it cannot be denied that she felt her exclusion from the splendour which ought to have belonged to her as the eldest Miss Joscelyn, but which her husband’s position excluded her from. The other Selbys even, who went on sufferance as the Doctor’s family, made it more hard for Joan. “My husband is a deal better a man than Raaf Selby will ever be,” she said with some indignation to Brotherton, who heard the complaints on all sides, “and nobody that knows them would ever hesitate between them. But Heatonshaw is only a little place, and we’ve nothing at all to do with the great folks at the Castle. Of course it is me Liddy ought to go with; and it is a joke to think that Raaf Selby’s family should all be going, and not me. But I will never forgive mother if she sends Liddy with them, and does not go herself to take care of the child. Mother’s a strange woman. She was never happy till the Duchess called, and now she has got her desire she’ll not hear any more of it. I like consistency. Now I don’t care a snap of my fingers for the Duchess; but if she invited me,” said Joan, magnanimously, “I’d go.” Here she paused, but a minute or two after resumed with great gravity. “A woman takes her husband’s rank, whatever that may be. I am not ashamed of my husband because he does not take her Grace’s eye.” And here Joan laughed again, but with an uneasy laughter. She was sore on the subject, and perhaps if she had been entrusted with the buying of the dress the result might have been disastrous. Mrs. Joscelyn would not trust Joan, but in her own timid person hesitated and doubted what to do, when Brotherton, the confidant of all their troubles, came to her aid. He proposed that his mother, who was in town (much the best place for everything of the kind; the place where fashion reigned, and ball-dresses were much more plentiful than blackberries), should get the dress.