"Well, is it not the better for it? I may not remain in Westerbury for good, and I could let my house to greater advantage now than I could have done before." "That's true," listlessly answered Lucy. "Lucy," suddenly exclaimed Miss Arkell, "what is it that makes you appear so dispirited? I could account for it after your father's death; it was only reasonable then; but it seems to me quite unreasonable that it should continue. I begin to think it must be your natural manner." Lucy's heart gave a bound of something like terror at the question. "I was always quiet, aunt," she said. None had looked on with more wonder at the expense being lavished on the house than Mrs. Arkell. "So absurd!" she exclaimed, loftily. "But Mildred Arkell was always pretentious, for a lady's maid." William Arkell called to see Mildred the morning after her arrival. Very much surprised indeed, was he, to see also Mrs. Dundyke. He carried the news home to his wife. "_Betsey_ down here!" she answered. "Why, what has brought her?" "She told me she had accompanied Mildred for a little change. She is coming in to see you by-and-by, Charlotte." "I hope she's not coming begging!" tartly responded Mrs. Arkell. "Begging?" "Yes; begging. It's a question whether she's left with enough to live upon. I'm sure we have none to spare, for her or for anybody else; and so I shall plainly tell her if she attempts to ask." That they had none to spare, was an indisputable fact. Mrs. Arkell had done all in her power to hurry the marriage on with Miss Fauntleroy, but Travice held back unpardonably. His cheek grew bright with hectic, his whole time was spent in what his mother called "moping;" and he entered but upon rare occasions the house of his bride elect. Mr. Arkell would not urge him by a single word; but, in the delay, he had had to sacrifice another remnant of his property. The first use that Mrs. Dundyke put her carriage to in Westerbury, was that of going in it to William Arkell's. Mildred declined to accompany her, and Lucy was obliged to go with her; Lucy, who would have given the whole world _not_ to go. But she could not say so. Mrs. Arkell was in the dining-room, when the carriage drove in at the court-yard gates. She wondered whose it was. A nice close carriage, the servants attending it in mourning. She did not recognise it as one she knew. She heard the visitors shown into the drawing-room, and waited for the cards with some curiosity. But no cards came in. Mrs. Dundyke, the servant brought word, and she was with Miss Lucy Arkell. Mrs. Dundyke! Wondering what on earth brought Betsey in that carriage, and where she had picked it up, Mrs. Arkell took a closer view of it through the window. It was too good a carriage to be anything but a private one, and those horses were never hired; and there were the servants. She looked at the crest. But it was not a crest. Only an enclosed cipher, D.D.