"You do not mean to say that you will throw me over? But the truth is, Mrs. Askerton, that I do not mean to be thrown over. I look upon him as my brother, and I intend to cling to him as sisters do cling." "You will hardly come back here before you are married," said Mrs. Askerton. It was a terrible speech for her to make, and could only be excused on the ground that the speaker was in truth desirous of doing that which she thought would benefit both of those whom she addressed. "Of course you are going to your wedding now?" "I am doing nothing of the kind," said Clara. "How can you speak in that way to me so soon after my father's death? It is a rebuke to me for being here at all." "I intend no rebuke, as you well know. What I mean is this; if you do not stay in Yorkshire till you are married, let the time be when it may, where do you intend to go in the meantime?" "My plans are not settled yet." "She will have this house if she pleases," said Will. "There will be no one else here. It will be her own, to do as she likes with it." "She will hardly come here,--to be alone." "I will not be inquired into, my dear," said Clara, speaking with restored good-humour. "Of course I am an unprotected female, and subject to disadvantages. Perhaps I have no plans for the future; and if I have plans, perhaps I do not mean to divulge them." "I had better come to the point at once," said Mrs. Askerton. "If--if--if it should ever suit you, pray come here to us. Flowers shall not be more welcome in May. It is difficult to speak of it all, though you both understand everything as well as I do. I cannot press my invitation as another woman might." "Yes, you can," said Clara with energy. "Of course you can." "Can I? Then I do. Dear Clara, do come to us." And then as she spoke Mrs. Askerton knelt on the ground at her visitor's knees. "Mr. Belton, do tell her that when she is tired with the grandeur of Aylmer Park she may come to us here." "I don't know anything about the grandeur of Aylmer Park," said Will, suddenly. "But she may come here;--may she not?" "She will not ask my leave," said he. "She says that you are her brother. Whose leave should she ask?" "He knows that I should ask his rather than that of any living person," said Clara. "There, Mr. Belton. Now you must say that she may come;--or that she may not." "I will say nothing. She knows what to do much better than I can tell her." Mrs. Askerton was still kneeling, and again appealed to Clara. "You hear what he says. What do you say yourself? Will you come to us?--that is, if such a visit will suit you,--in point of convenience?" "I will make no promise; but I know no reason why I should not." "And I must be content with that? Well: I will be content." Then she got up. "For such a one as I am, that is a great deal. And, Mr. Belton, let me tell you this;--I can be grateful to you, though you cannot be gracious to me." "I hope I have not been ungracious," said he.