‘That is the very best conclusion to come to,’ said her mother; ‘since it would not be worth while either for the rich one or the poor one, you may put that out of your head and meet him at your ease, as you ought to meet an elderly cousin.’ ‘Thirty-five is not exactly elderly--for a man,’ said Rose, thoughtfully. She did not put the question out of her mind so easily as her mother suggested. ‘But I suppose it is time to go and dress,’ she added, with a little sigh. ‘No Brighton, and winter coming on, and nobody here, not even Willie Ashley. I hope he will be amusing at least,’ she said, sighing again, as she went away. Mrs. Mountford followed slowly with a smile on her face. She was not sorry, on the whole, to have put the idea into her child’s head. Even when the Mountfords of Mount had been poor, it was ‘a very nice position’--and Heathcote had something, enough to live upon: and Rose would have something. If they ‘fancied’ each other, worse things might happen. She did not feel inclined to oppose such a consummation. It would be better than marrying Willie Ashley, or--for of course _that_ would be out of the question--wanting to marry him. Mrs. Mountford knew by experience what it was for a girl to spend all her youth in the unbroken quiet of a house in the country which was not really a great house. She had been thirty when she married Mr. Mountford, and before that time there had occurred sundry passages, involving at least one ineligible young man, which had not quite passed from her memory. How was it possible to help it?--a girl must do something to amuse herself, to occupy the time that hangs so heavily on her hands. And often, she reflected, before you know what you are doing, it has become serious, and there is no way out of it. As she looked back she remembered many instances in which this had happened. Better, far better, an elderly cousin with an old though small estate, than the inevitable clergyman or Willie Ashley. And thirty-five, for a man, was not an age to make any objection to. She went upstairs with her head full of such thoughts, and there once more she found Mrs. Worth, with whom she had held so earnest a colloquy in the corridor, while Saymore opened his heart to his young ladies. Mrs. Worth shook her head when her mistress addressed a question to her. She pinned on the lace pelerine with which it was Mrs. Mountford’s pride to make her old dresses look nice for the evening, with many shakings of her head. ‘I don’t know, ma’am, as I shall ever bring her to hear reason,’ Mrs. Worth said. ‘I tell her as a good worthy man, and a nice little bit of money, is not for any girl to despise, and many that is her betters would be glad of the chance. But “you can’t put an old head on young shoulders,” as the saying is, and I don’t know as I shall ever bring her to hear reason. There’s things as nothing will teach us but experience ma’am,’ Mrs. Worth said.