She kissed the letter twice, pressed it to her bosom, and then sat silent for half an hour thinking of it;--of it, and the man who wrote it, and of the man who had written the other letter. She could not but remember how that other man had thought to treat her, when it was his intention and her intention that they two should join their lots together;--how cold he had been; how full of caution and counsel; how he had preached to her himself and threatened her with the preaching of his mother; how manifestly he had purposed to make her life a sacrifice to his life; how he had premeditated her incarceration at Perivale, while he should be living a bachelor's life in London! Will Belton's ideas of married life were very different. Only come to me at once,--now, immediately, and everything else shall be disposed just as you please. This was his offer. What he proposed to give,--or rather his willingness to be thus generous, was very sweet to her; but it was not half so sweet as his impatience in demanding his reward. How she doted on him because he considered his present state to be a purgatory! How could she refuse anything she could give to one who desired her gifts so strongly? As for her future residence, it would be a matter of indifference to her where she should live, so long as she might live with him; but for him,--she felt that but one spot in the world was fit for him. He was Belton of Belton, and it would not be becoming that he should live elsewhere. Of course she would go with him to Plaistow Hall as often as he might wish it; but Belton Castle should be his permanent resting-place. It would be her duty to be proud for him, and therefore, for his sake, she would beg that their home might be in Somersetshire. "Mary," she said to her cousin soon afterwards, "Will sends his love to you." "And what else does he say?" "I couldn't tell you everything. You shouldn't expect it." "I don't expect it; but perhaps there may be something to be told." "Nothing that I need tell,--specially. You, who know him so well, can imagine what he would say." "Dear Will! I am sure he would mean to write what was pleasant." Then the matter would have dropped had Clara been so minded,--but she, in truth, was anxious to be forced to talk about the letter. She wished to be urged by Mary to do that which Will urged her to do;--or, at least, to learn whether Mary thought that her brother's wish might be gratified without impropriety. "Don't you think we ought to live here?" she said. "By all means,--if you both like it." "He is so good,--so unselfish, that he will only ask me to do what I like best." "And which would you like best?" "I think he ought to live here because it is the old family property. I confess that the name goes for something with me. He says that he would build a new house." "Does he think he could have it ready by the time you are married?"