I retreated to my own room very much moved by what I had heard, and sat down to consider it. I was alone, for Lady Leighton had kept Amabel much with herself for the last few days, and seemed to be trying to conciliate her. I thought over what Wilson had told me, about her lady's being in the power of Lord Bulmer, and I remembered, or, thought I did, that on the evening we had spent with her, she had treated him quite differently from the other young men who formed her court. What hold could such a coxcomb have over this imperious woman of fashion, accustomed to carry all before her? Did she owe him money, or was he in possession of inconvenient knowledge? "Oh my soul, come not thou into their secret!" I said to myself. But supposing that Sir Julius and his lady were both against her, would Amabel hold out? Of that I had little fear. But would she not, might she not, be forced into a marriage? Such things were done I knew well enough. I had heard of more instances than one. All things considered, I thought it but right to tell Amabel of what I had heard, and the warning Wilson had given me. I had no chance during the day, but at last she came to our room looking pale and tired enough. Lady Leighton had said no more about changing rooms with us, and indeed she seldom or never came into our part of the house. Like many other perfectly irreligious people, she was very superstitious, would turn pale at the screech of an owl, and be miserable a whole day, because she had dreamed of a white horse, and I owed the only invitation I had received since her arrival, to the fact that there were thirteen people to sit down. "Oh Lucy, how tired, how tired I am!" said Amabel, dropping wearily into a chair. "What should I do, if I had not you to come back to?" "You would have a better Friend than poor Lucy!" I returned. "Come, let me loosen your gown and stays, and make you comfortable. What have you been doing to tire you so?" "It is not what I have done!" said Amabel. "I have walked out with my lady a little, but that did not tire me. It is these people and their talk that disgusts me. That rational beings can occupy themselves in such ways, and that women who call themselves ladies should listen to, and join in such talk. Nobody is safe from their tongues—not those they call their dearest friends. I wonder whether it ever occurs to my lady, that these same people talk of her in just the same way, behind her back." "No doubt they do!" I remarked. "You know Mrs. Thorpe used to say, that a dog which would fetch a bone would carry a bone. It was a homely proverb, but I believe it is true." "Then the everlasting trifling!" resumed Amabel. "The utter impatience of any thing like seriousness, and worse, the making free with sacred names and things. Mr. Dugdale must needs address himself to me, with some ridiculous riddle about St. Peter." "And what did you say?" I asked.