"Not altogether,--but to some extent. A certain class of people,--not the best worth knowing,--might be inclined to drop her. However foolish her own friends may be we owe something--even to their folly." "Her friends are not foolish,--her proper friends." "I quite agree with that; but then so many of them are improper." "Hampstead!" "I am afraid that I don't make myself quite clear. But never mind. It would be inexpedient. It would go against the grain with my father, who ought to be consulted." "I should think so." "I quite agree with you. A father ought to be consulted, even though a daughter be of age, so as to be enabled by law to do as she likes with herself. And then there would be money discomforts." "She would not have a shilling." "Not but what I should think it my duty to put that right if there were any real distress." Here spoke the heir, who was already in possession of much, and upon whom the whole property of the family was entailed. "Nevertheless if I can prevent it,--without quarrelling either with one or the other, without saying a hard word,--I shall do so." "It will be your bounden duty." "It is always a man's bounden duty to do what is right. The difficulty is in seeing the way." After this the Marchioness was silent. What she had gained by speaking was very little,--little or nothing. The nature of the opposition he proposed was almost as bad as a sanction, and the reasons he gave for agreeing with her were as hurtful to her feelings as though they had been advanced on the other side. Even the Marquis was not sufficiently struck with horror at the idea that a daughter of his should have condescended to listen to love from a Post Office clerk! On the day before they started Hampstead was enabled to be alone with his sister for a few minutes. "What an absurdity it is," she said, laughing,--"this running away." "It is what you must have expected." "But not the less absurd. Of course I shall go. Just at the moment I have no alternative; as I should have none if they threatened to lock me up, till I got somebody to take my case in hand. But I am as free to do what I please with myself as is papa." "He has got money." "But he is not, therefore, to be a tyrant." "Yes he is;--over an unmarried daughter who has got none. We cannot but obey those on whom we are dependent." "What I mean is, that carrying me away can do no good. You don't suppose, John, that I shall give him up after having once brought myself to say the word! It was very difficult to say;--but ten times harder to be unsaid. I am quite determined,--and quite satisfied." "But they are not." "As regards my father, I am very sorry. As to mamma, she and I are so different in all our thinking that I know beforehand that whatever I might do would displease her. It cannot be helped. Whether it be good or bad I cannot be made such as she is. She came too late. You will not turn against me, John?" "I rather think I shall." "John!"