"What nonsense, Sir John! Do I insist upon the girl's falling in love, or do I lay violent hands upon the owner of Ripley?" "Not exactly, Gertrude, but I object to your eternal plans and manœuvres, which tend to the same effect." Lady Wetheral kissed her hand playfully. "Avaunt such notions! A mother is a very different being from a father. One is all tenderness and anxiety for the future; the other dreams heavily, and not always wisely, over the present. Look at Chrystal there, sitting bolt upright, with her hair in such masses, and her throat covered up like the picture of Heloise. You find her necessary to your amusement now, but you are blind to her future advantage. Who will ask for a wife from the alarming precincts of your bookroom? Who will care to please a girl brought up among authors, full of self-importance, and whose conversation will preclude her from pleasing others?" "Christobelle is a very agreeable companion," was her father's reply. "She will do for old Leslie's nephew, perhaps," observed her ladyship, listlessly. "Kerrison says they have got him into Dundonald's ship." A short silence ensued, and Lady Wetheral quitted the room, unshackled by any definite promise upon the subject of Sir Foster Kerrison. Sir John sank again into tranquil employments, satisfied that his sentiments were made known, and that henceforth, when the bustle of the double marriage should subside, the tide of gaiety would ebb, and Wetheral Castle become a scene of calm and domestic cheerfulness. Then all this communication with Ripley must terminate, and Clara would not be subjected to the constant society of Sir Foster Kerrison. This happy vision lulled Sir John Wetheral into present security, and his mind dismissed the subject from its consideration.