Meg and Rosamond were in despair at our going away. My aunt alternately rejoiced in our good fortune and lamented my obstinacy in not accommodating matters with Andrew—an obstinacy which both she and Betty laid to the account of our increased riches, which had as much to do with it as the flight of the birds. Betty was quite herself again, demure and graceful, satisfied with herself and her lover. She fished hard for an invitation to Stanton for herself and Mr. Lovel, but without success. "No, I will not have them," was my lord's comment to my mother. "He is a fool, and she is, above all others, the kind of girl I hate—so sly and silky. The others are nice maids enough, but I will have none of Betty." However, he made Betty a present, and was very agreeable at the wedding, which we all attended. I would have given a great deal to stay away, but my pride would not let me: so I went. All went off very well, only that Mr. Dobson, in his absent-mindedness, said in the ceremony, "That which God hath put asunder, let no man join together," which methought was an ill omen. But, indeed, it was but an ill-omened affair from first to last. Betty looked very handsome I must say, and so did her bridegroom. Rosamond was glum and Margaret ill at case, while Andrew was cold, black, and stiff as one of the stone pillars out on the moor. My aunt, on the contrary, was as easy and as much pleased as if everything had come about in the best manner possible. But for her and for my lord, who exerted himself in the most amiable way, it would have been a sour wedding-party. The next day Andrew again came to see my mother, and to beg a renewal of the engagement. He had talked with Mr. Lovel, now that they were upon more friendly terms, and Mr. Level had quite exculpated me from any knowledge of or part in his affairs and Betty's, saying with his easy laugh that he had only confirmed Betty's words because he would not see the lady he loved put down. Andrew was most earnest with my mother to overlook his past conduct, which he now confessed to be faulty, and to let him begin again. "No, my fair son," said maman; "it would not be best. I can never forget what we owe you and yours; but my gratitude must be shown in some other way than by giving you my child under present circumstances. She is not to be thrown away and picked up again like a toy, to be cast down again the moment you see or fancy a flaw in her. You say this is your last voyage. When you return, if Vevette is still free and you choose to make your addresses to her, well and good, but for the present matters must remain as they are." Then Andrew begged my lord's intercession, but my lord, when he heard the story, declared my mother was right, and that he would do the same in her place.