It would have taken a very respectable earthquake to have made as much sensation in a rural neighbourhood as was made in the village and neighbourhood of Matcham by the cancelment of Allan Carew's engagement to General Vincent's daughter. The fact that no visitors had been bidden to the wedding seemed to make no difference in the rapid dissemination of the news. People from twenty miles round had been interested; people from twenty miles round had come up to be taxed, and had sent pepper-pots and hair-brushes, paper-knives and scent-bottles, fans and candlesticks--all of which were now returned to the givers in the very tissue paper and cardboard boxes in which they had been sent from shops or stores, accompanied by a formal little note of apology. The marriage had been deferred indefinitely; and, at his daughter's request, General Vincent begged to return the gifts, with best thanks for the kindly feeling which had prompted, etc. "It will do for some one else!" That was the almost inevitable exclamation when the tissue paper was unfolded and the gift appeared, untarnished and undamaged by the double transit. Then followed speculations as to the meaning of those words, "deferred indefinitely." "Indefinitely means never," pronounced Mrs. Roebuck; "there's no doubt upon that point. He has jilted her. I thought he would begin to look about him after his father's death. I dare say he will have a house in town next season--a _pied à terre_ near Park Lane--and go into society, instead of vegetating among those Bœotians. He must feel himself thrown away in such a hole." "I thought he was devoted to Miss Vincent." "Nonsense! How could any man be devoted to an insignificant Frenchified chit without style or _savoir farie_?" "She has a pretty, piquant little face," murmured Mr. Roebuck meekly, not liking to be enthusiastic about beauty which was the very opposite of his wife's Roman-nosed and flaxen-haired style. * * * * * Upon Mrs. Mornington the blow fell far more heavily than on Suzette's father, who was very glad to keep his daughter at home, albeit regretful that she should have treated a faithful lover so scurvily. "If the poor child did not know her own mind at the beginning, it's a blessed thing she found out her mistake before it was too late," pleaded the General to his irate sister. "It _is_ too late--too late for respectability--too late for common humanity. To lead a young man on for over a year, almost to the foot of the altar, and then to throw him off. It is simply shameful! To make a fool of him and herself before the whole neighbourhood--to belittle herself as much as she has belittled him. No doubt all the women will say that _he_ has jilted _her_." "Let them. That cannot hurt her."