“But he must not, Madam,” cried the Rector, raising his voice. “What, emigrate! and leave you here in your widowhood with no one to stand by you! This is nonsense--nonsense, Lady Markham. I assure you, my dear Madam, it is impossible, it must not be.” Lady Markham smiled faintly through her tears. She shook her head. It seemed to her that the old Rector, with all his long life behind him, was so much less experienced, so much more youthful than she was. _Must_ not be! What did it matter who said that so long as the boy himself did not say it? The Rector had so raised his voice that the two girls had an excuse for coming nearer, for asking, with their eyes at least, what it was. “The Rector says Paul must not go; that he ought to go into the Church and succeed to the living. Ah!” cried Lady Markham, “it is so easy to say ‘ought’ and ‘must not.’ And what can I say? that he will do what he thinks right, not what we think right. What does any one else matter? He will do--what he likes himself.” Her voice was choked--her heart was very sore. Never had she breathed a word of censure upon Paul to other ears than perhaps those of Alice before. Her usual strength had forsaken her. And Alice, who was estranged and chilled, did not go near her mother. Dolly Stainforth had never been brought up to neglect her duties in this particular. Her business in life had always been with people who were in trouble; a kind of professional habit, so to speak, delivered her from shyness even when her own feelings were concerned. She went up quickly to the poor lady who was weeping, without restraint, and took her hand in those soft little firm hands which had held up so many. Not so much a shy girl full of great tenderness as a little celestial curate, devoted everywhere to the service of the sorrowful, she did not blush or hesitate, but with two big tears in her eyes spoke her consolation. “Oh dear Lady Markham,” Dolly said, “are you not proud, are you not happy to know that it is only what he thinks right that he will do? What could any one say more? Papa does not know him as--as _you_ do. He thinks he might be persuaded, though his heart would not be in it; but you--you would not have him do that? I--” said Dolly all unawares, betraying herself with a little sob in her throat and her voice sinking so low as almost to be inaudible--“I” (as if she had anything to do with it! strong emotion gave her such importance) “would rather he should go--than stay like that!”