"Why, there's only a right and wrong way of doing things," replied Tom Pynsent, rising; "and I have no idea of teazing a woman as if I was digging out a fox, to make her dread the sound of my voice. I wish you well, Miss Julia, and as you will never hear me complain of a woman who tells me plump she does not like me, you need not be afraid of meeting me sometimes. I like every body to be above-board, and say what they mean. I am very sorry to appear rude, Sir John, but you will excuse my taking leave. I came upon a business which is settled, you know, so I had better take myself off." Tom Pynsent bowed, and turned towards Lady Wetheral, whose lips were white and compressed. "I must not take a lady's word for her daughter in future, but you did all you could to give me hope, for which I am obliged to you, Lady Wetheral. Good morning to you." He passed Julia in silence, but she held out her hand. "Say we are friends, Mr. Pynsent." This little circumstance apparently overpowered poor Tom Pynsent, for he made no reply. He held the offered hand to his lips for some time, and, relinquishing it gently, he quitted the room like a man who had suffered disappointment, but who was prepared to bear his trial without flinching. Even Julia felt admiration at her lover's manly exit. Lady Wetheral was some minutes before she spoke, though her lips had moved without the power of conveying sounds. She was stupified at the conversation which had taken place before her, and Tom Pynsent was gone without her having the ability of tongue or hand to detain him! Julia had unequivocally refused Tom Pynsent, Hatton, and a settlement! These things were too powerful to bear. At length she gained her voice, but it came hollow and slowly from her parched lips. "Julia!" "Well, mamma, what have you to say to me? Do not you think I made a quick affair of my proposal?" "Do you know what you have done?" said her mother, in the same dreadful tone. "To be sure, mamma, I do. I have refused great, broad-faced, but honest Tom Pynsent; but now I have something to tell _you_." Lady Wetheral waved her hand. "Do not speak to me, Julia; and never let my eyes behold you. I cannot help being your mother, but you are no longer my daughter in feeling, and I command you to remain in your own apartments for ever. You have given me the bitterest sorrow a mother can experience." Sir John quitted the room. "You have brought me in sorrow to the grave, for I shall never outlive this disgrace!" "Oh yes, you will, mamma: you must live to dance at my wedding." "I detest the sound!" she exclaimed--"your wedding! You have refused the first match in the two counties, and you will be disgraced and dishonoured among the wise, while I am pitied and despised by all my friends! Send Thompson to me." Her ladyship became hysterical, and Julia became serious.