“Then they are not going to the railway station,” exclaimed Rose aloud. “No, miss,” assented the butler, as he stood at the open hall-door, regarding nature as though it were a novelty to him at that hour. “I should say it must be the postoffice. Perhaps my Lady wishes to get the letters this morning earlier than the Mirk's man can bring them.” “Very likely, Roberts,” returned the young lady, a little disconcerted at her involuntary remark having been overheard. “Let us hope she will have good news. But I should scarcely have thought it was necessary to have gone herself.” “Well, I am not so sure, miss. Mrs Rudd, the post-mistress at Dalwynch, is a great stickler for forms and that, and she might have made some difficulty, particularly as she did not obtain her place through our influence.” “_Whose_ influence, Roberts?” “Ours, miss, to be sure. The Lisgard interest, you see, was given last election to the losing side. Although time was, I can well recollect, when poor Sir Robert had everything of that sort at his disposal that was vacant in these parts; but them yallers, they have gone and spoilt it all this time.” And with a sigh of regret for the golden age of patronage, and a shake of the head directed against the levelling opinions at present in the ascendant, Mr Roberts went off to his breakfast. No sooner had the wheels of the chariot began to move, than Lady Lisgard observed to her companion: “You have the letter with you that I dictated last night, have you not?” “Yes, my Lady; here it is, though not sealed down, in case you might have thought of anything to add.” “No, Mary,” said her mistress, perusing it; “there is nothing here that I can better by thought, although I spent all night in thinking over it. A refusal could scarce be made shorter or more decided than this; there is not a trace of vacillation to give the most sanguine suitor hope.” Then, as if some other idea was expressing itself almost in spite of herself, she added: “Do I not look deadly pale, Mary?” “Very white and worn, madam, as you well may.” “But bad enough for people to observe who did not know the cause?” “For some people, madam. _She_ saw it sharp enough, if you mean _her_, my Lady,” and the waiting-maid made a significant gesture in the direction of Miss Rose Aynton. “Nothing escapes _her_, bless you--nothing; and the sooner she's out of the house, under present circumstances--and indeed under every circumstance, in my opinion--the better.” “You never liked her from the first, Mary,” said her mistress in the tone of one who argues against her own conviction. “We should not be uncharitable in our judgments of others, and particularly as respects young folks; we often set down as serious faults what in them is only thoughtlessness.”