“And I say, Aunt, that I will not and cannot.” “Why? Have you been secretly converted to the Church of Rome, and are you going into a nunnery? Or is there—another man?” “Yes, Aunt.” “Where is he?” said Lady Thompson, looking about her as though she expected to find him hidden under the furniture. “And how did you manage to become entangled with him, you sly girl, under my very nose? And who is he? One of those bowing and scraping Italians, I suppose, who think you’ll get my money. Tell me the truth at once.” “He is somebody you have never seen, Aunt. One of the Arnotts down at home.” “Oh, that Captain! Well, I believe they have a decent property, about 2,000 pounds a year, but all in land, which Sir Samuel never held by. Of course, it is nothing like the Russell match, which would have made a peeress of you some day and given you a great position meanwhile. But I suppose we must be thankful for small mercies.” “It is not Captain Arnott, it is his younger brother Anthony.” “Anthony! Anthony, that youth who is reading for the Bar. Why, the property is all entailed, and he will scarcely have a half-penny, for his mother brought no money to the Arnotts. Oh, this is too much! To throw up Mr. Russell for an Anthony. Are you engaged to him with your parents’ consent, may I ask, and if so, why was the matter concealed from me, who would certainly have declined to drag an entangled young woman about the world?” “I am not engaged, but my father and mother know that we are attached to each other. It happened the day after you came to Eastwich, or they would have told you. My father made me promise that we would not correspond while I was away, as he thought that we were too young to bind ourselves to each other, especially as Anthony has no present prospects or means to support a wife.” “I am glad they had so much sense. It is more than might have been expected of my sister after her own performance, for which doubtless she is sorry enough now. Like you, she might have married a title instead of a curate and beggary.” “I am quite sure that my mother is not sorry, Aunt,” replied Barbara, whose spirit was rising. “I know that she is a very happy woman.” “Look here, Barbara, let’s come to the point. Will you give up this moon-calf business of yours or not?” “It is not a moon-calf business, whatever that may be, and I will not give it up.” “Very well, then, I can’t make you as you are of age. But I have done with you. You will go to your room and stop there, and to-morrow morning you will return to your parents, to whom I will write at once. You have betrayed my hospitality and presumed upon my kindness; after all the things I have given you, too,” and her eyes fixed themselves upon a pearl necklace that Barbara was wearing. For Lady Thompson could be generous when she was in the mood. Barbara unfastened the necklace and offered it to her aunt without a word.