"I am glad you were firm," said I, "though it is a cruel necessity which makes a young girl stand out against her father." "It is not my father but his wife," answered Amabel. "Only for her, I believe he would never have turned against Walter. Oh Lucy, how could he marry such a woman? And what is the strange power which Lord Bulmer has over her?" "Perhaps she wished to marry him herself and could not succeed," said I. "I believe that what Wilson told me is true, and that she is under his thumb. But what means your father's remark about me?" "Perhaps he has a match prepared for you, also," answered Amabel. "I have had my suspicions of that. Captain Dangerfield." "That is a match which will never take fire," said I. I suppose Sir Julius thought better of the matter, for Amabel was sent for to supper. She told me when she returned that Lord Bulmer had hardly spoken to her or noticed her, but had devoted himself entirely to Mrs. Wardlaw, a very showy young widow, who had come on a visit from Newcastle. "She was delighted, of course," said I. "She seemed so, certainly. Such airs as she put on—twisting her head, and rolling her eyes, and turning about those white hands of hers." "She would be pretty, if she could over let herself alone," said I; "but I don't admire her ways. She seems as though she could not be happy without the attention of every man within reach. But what did you do all the evening?" "Oh, I sat in the corner and taught Miss Dugdale how to make daisy trimming, and Mr. Dugdale entertained us with tales of his school and college days. Poor little lad! What a pity he should have an ambition to be considered a man of the world!" The next morning Amabel was invited, or rather commanded, to attend her step-mother in her dressing-room, and I took the opportunity of walking over to see Mrs. Deborah. I found her opening a package she had received from Newcastle. "You are just in time, Niece Corbet," said she. "Here are a letter and a parcel for you from good Mrs. Thorpe. But before you read, tell me the news at the Hall. Is it true, as the rumor goes, that Amabel is to marry this fine Lord Bulmer?" "She will never marry him unless she is absolutely forced to do so, Aunt Deborah," I answered. "She says that she would not wed him, if there were not another man in the world." "And you think she is right, I suppose." "Yes, madam, I cannot but think so," I answered. "To marry one man while she loves another would be flat perjury, in my opinion." "But suppose the one she loves to be unworthy." "That may be a reason for refusing him, but not for marrying another." "Well, child, you may be right for aught I know," said Mrs. Deborah, sighing. "I am glad, at least, that we are assured there will be no marrying or giving in marriage in the next world, for I think that same marrying makes most of the trouble in this."