"I picked it up from observation and common sense," answered Mrs. Arkell, resentful of the laugh. "Travice used always to be there; and now that they are back, I suppose he will be again. He has lost no time in beginning, it seems." "And if he is there, it does not follow that he goes for the sake of Lucy." "It looks wonderfully like it, though." "Nonsense, Charlotte! In the old days, when I was a young man, as Travice is, and Mildred was a girl like Lucy, quite as attractive----" "Quite as what?" shrieked Mrs. Arkell. "I hope your taste does not put forward Lucy Arkell as attractive--or as Mildred's having been so before her. They are as like as two peas. A couple of uneducated, old-fashioned, old-maidish things, possessing not a single attraction." "Opinions differ," said Mr. Arkell, quietly. "But if it be as you intimate, there's the less danger for Travice. What I was about to say was this--that in the old days I was in the habit of going to that house more than Travice goes to it now, and busy people, even my own mother, never believed but that I went for the sake of Mildred. I did not; neither did I marry her." "The cases are different. You had no companion at home; Travice has his sisters. And it might have ended in your marrying Mildred, had I not come down on that long visit here, and saved you." "Yes, it might." He was looking dreamily into the fire, his thoughts buried in the past; utterly oblivious to the present, and to the effect his remark might make. Mrs. Arkell felt particularly savage when she heard it. "And a nice wife you'd have had! She is only fit for what she is--a lady's maid. Lucy will follow her example, perhaps, when old Peter's poverty has sent him into the grave. I always hated Lucy Arkell--it may be a strong term to use--but it's the truth. From the time that she was only as high as the elbow of that chair, and her mother, with the fine Cheveley notions, used to deck her out as a little court doll, I hated her!" "And I have always thought her one of the sweetest and most loveable of children," quietly returned Mr. Arkell. "Opinions differ, I say, Charlotte. But why should you have hated her?" "Because--I think it must have been" (and Mrs. Arkell looked into the fire also in reflection, and for once spoke her true sentiments)--"I think it must have been because you and Travice made so much of her. I only know it has been." "I'd not cherish it, Charlotte." "_You_ would not, I know. Tell me," she added, with quite a gust of passion in voice and eye, "would you like to see your fine, attractive, noble son, thrown away upon Lucy Arkell?" "My head is as bad as it can be, Charlotte; I wish you'd not worry me. I think I must be going to have some fever." "He might marry half Westerbury. With his good looks, his education, his fine prospects----" "Yes, do put in _them_," interrupted Mr. Arkell. "Very fine they are, in the present aspect of affairs."