"It won't do to reckon thereupon. I must be secure of capital enough to fall back upon. Think it over well, Mary, and answer me to-morrow; and you had better say nothing to your sisters till your own mind is made up. I own that I should be very glad of the road. It would save us and old Major a good deal, to say nothing of our friends' bones." "Do you mean that you wish it, Edmund?" "I wish to leave it entirely to you." Dora and Sophy had gone across the fields, a four miles' walk to Poppleby, and were to be brought home in the evening, and Mary was left to wander about the old road and the field-path, and meditate on the ruts and quagmires that would beset the way in the winter, and shut them up from visiting, perhaps even from church. Besides, there were appearances! There was an old gentleman, a far-away connection of Edmund's, who had been in the navy, and now lived at Poppleby, and went about collecting all the chatter to be heard in one house, and retailing it all in another, and he thought himself licensed to tell Edmund and Mary everything personal. One thing was-- "My dear fellow, you should really put a check on your wife's Methodistical ways!" "I didn't know she had any." "I have been told, on good authority, that she has a meeting every Sunday in the wash-house." Edmund laughed. "A dozen children for Sunday School, with the President's full consent." "It won't do, Edmund. You'll find it won't do! Why, old Selby told me she was a pretty creature, only just like your good pious ladies, running into all the dirtiest cottages." And to Mary it was, "Let me give you a hint, my dear Mrs Carbonel. The Duchess saw you in Poppleby, and asked who you were, and she said she would like to visit you, if you did not live in such a hole." "I don't think I want her," said Mary. "Now, my dear, don't you be foolish! It would be so much to Edmund's advantage! He was in the same regiment with Lord Henry, and you might have the best society in the county, if only you would make your new drive! Why, even Lady Hartman says she can't take her horses again through that lane, or into the farm court. Miss Yates said it was quite disgusting." Mary Carbonel might laugh. She did not care for her own dignity, but she did for Edmund's; and though she had been amused at Lady Hartman's four horses entangled in the narrow sweep, and did not quite believe old Captain Caiger, the lady herself had been very charming, and Mary did not like to cut her husband and sisters off from the pleasantest houses in the country. But the words, "Love not the world," came up into her mind, and the battle ended by her saying to her husband-- "Don't let us have the _ap_proach this year, dear Edmund. I don't want it to be Mary's _re_proach." "You are quite sure? In spite of Caiger?" "Indeed I am; though I am afraid it is asking you to give up something."