Mr Boscawen's disgust rose to his eyes, and overflowed in the expression of his countenance; but a strong effort subdued the sentence which trembled upon his lips. He rose, and quitted the breakfast-room. When the door closed upon his awful figure, Isabel's misery burst forth: she threw her arms around Clara, who was seated near her, and sobbed violently. "Oh, mamma, I wish I had never, never married!" "My dear Mrs. Boscawen," replied her mother, in very soothing accents, "you are not aware of what you say. I am sure you would have been miserable single, and I should have been tormented to death with an unmarried daughter always at my elbow. You are very comfortably and happily married, my love." "Oh, how can you say so, mamma! I wish I was Chrystal, to sit with papa, and never be obliged to do what I did not like! I wish I was you, Clara, happy and unmarried! I wish I was a bird, or the cat, or any thing but what I am!" Poor Isabel wept freely: she proceeded--"I am going to be shut up with Miss Tabitha and Mr. Boscawen, in that large, gloomy Brierly; I must not laugh, or speak to old John, or see any pleasant company. Oh, no one can tell the dullness and frightfulness of Brierly!" "My dear Isabel, reflect upon matrimony, and tell me who you ever saw perfectly free from care in that state? I consider it a very proper and natural institution, so very properly arranged, and so particularly enforced, that I confess I have no opinion of a woman who does not marry, if all the comforts of life are secured to her. If a woman is protected by a handsome settlement, and those kind of things, she _ought_ to marry." "Do you think so?" said Isabel, languidly. "I do: I think you married extremely well, and you ought to consider yourself peculiarly fortunate. If Mr. Boscawen is rigid in exacting painful sacrifices from you, remember he was very liberal in making a settlement; there must be trials, my dear children. I am a proof that the happiest matrimony has cares. Your poor father never assisted me in my anxieties about you all: I am certain Lord Ennismore would never have married Julia, if my unwearied efforts had not domesticated him at Wetheral." "Tom Pynsent will never contradict Anna Maria," said Isabel, as the tears sprang again to her eyes--"Tom will never wish my sister to read!" Mr. Boscawen was heard in the hall, giving orders. "Oh, we are going, mamma; I hear Mr. Boscawen ordering the carriage. I know the tone of his voice in giving that order so well! how my heart beats!" Isabel clung to her mother's arm. Mr. Boscawen entered, and gave his arm to his pale, trembling wife. "My dear Isabel, I have arranged every thing; you have only your father to visit before you enter the carriage." His lady appeared ready to faint. "Don't let me see papa! don't let me see papa!" she exclaimed.