Quietly, and after much thought, she arranged her plans in her own mind; quietly she hoped and prayed for assistance to be enabled to carry them out. Nobody suspected this. Mildred seemed to others just as she had ever seemed, quiet, unobtrusive Mildred Arkell, absorbed in the domestic cares of her own home, in thought for the comfort of her not at all strong brother. Mildred went now but very little to her aunt's. Betsey Travice had returned to London, to the enjoyments of Mrs. Dundyke's household, which she had refused to abandon; and William Arkell and his bride were not yet come home. "Peter," she said, one late evening that they were sitting together--and it was the first intimation of the project that had passed her lips--"I have been thinking of the future." "Yes?" replied Peter, absently, for he was as usual disputing some knotty point in his mind, having a Greek root for its basis. "What about it?" "I am thinking of leaving home; leaving it for good." The words awoke even Peter. He listened to her while she told her tale, listened without interrupting, he was so amazed. "But I cannot understand why you want to go," he said at last. "To be independent." Of course she was ready to assign any motive but the real one. Peter could not understand this. She was independent at home. "I don't know what it is you are thinking of, Mildred! Our house will go on just the same; my mother's death makes no difference to it. I kept it before, and I shall keep it still." "Oh yes, Peter, I know that. That is not it. I--in point of fact, I wish for a change of scene. I think I am tired of Westerbury." "But what can you do if you go away from it?" "I intend to ask Colonel and Mrs. Dewsbury: I suppose you have no objection. They have many influential friends in London and elsewhere, and perhaps they might help me to a situation." "Why do you want to go to London?" rejoined Peter, catching at the word. "It's full of traps and pitfalls, as people say. I don't know; I never was there." "I don't want to go to London, in particular; I don't care where I go." Anywhere--anywhere that would take her out of Westerbury, she had nearly added; but she controlled the words, and resumed calmly. "I would as soon go to London as to any other place, Peter, and to any other place as to London. I don't mind where it is, so that I find a--a--sphere of usefulness." "I don't like it at all," said Peter, after a pause of deliberation. "There are only two of us left now, Mildred, and I think we ought to continue together." "I will come and see you sometimes." "But, Mildred----"