“_Distinguez_,” said Lady Davenant; “_distinguons_, as the old French metaphysicians used to say, _distinguons_, there be various kinds of jealousy, as of love. The old romancers make a distinction between _amour_ and _amour par amours_. Whatever that mean, I beg leave to take a distinction full as intelligible, I trust, between _jalousie par amour_ and _jalousie par amitié_. Now, to apply; when I told you that our general was not subject to jealousy, I should have distinguished, and said, _jalousie par amour_--jealousy in love, but I will not ensure him against _jalousie par amitié_--jealousy in friendship--of friends and relations, I mean. Me-thinks I have seen symptoms of this in the general, he does not like my influence over Cecilia, nor yours, my dear.” “I understand it all,” exclaimed Helen, “and I was right from the very first; I saw he disliked me, and he ever will and must dislike and detest me--I see it in every look, hear it in every word, in every tone.” “Now, my dear Helen, if you are riding off on your imagination, I wish you a pleasant ride, and till you come back again I will write my letter,” said Lady Davenant, taking up a pen. Helen begged pardon, and protested she was not going to ride off upon any imagination,--she had no imagination now--she entreated Lady Davenant to go on, for she was very anxious to know the whole truth, whatever it might be. Lady Davenant laid down her pen, and told her all she knew. In the first place, that Cecilia did not like Miss Clarendon, who, though a very estimable person, had a sort of uncompromising sincerity, joined with a _brusquerie_ of manner which Cecilia could not endure. How her daughter had managed matters to refuse the sister without offending the brother, Lady Davenant said she did not know; that was Cecilia’s secret, and probably it lay in her own charming manner of doing things, aided by the whole affair having occurred a few days before marriage, when nothing could be taken ill of the bride elect. “The general, as Cecilia told me, desired that she would write to invite you, Helen; she did so, and I am very glad of it. This is all I know of this mighty matter.” But Helen could not endure the idea of being there, contrary to the general’s wishes, in the place of the sister he loved. Oh, how very, very unfortunate she was to have all her hopes blighted, destroyed--and Cecilia’s kindness all in vain. Dear, dear Cecilia!--but for the whole world Helen would not be so selfish--she would not run the hazard of making mischief. She would never use her influence over Cecilia in opposition to the general. Oh, how little he knew of her character, if he thought it possible.