Mr. Spottiswoode passed through the lodge at Lidham, and yet Miss Wycherly persevered in her silence; no matter, Mr. Wycherly was in sight, and the hour was past for repentance; she must henceforth submit to bear a gnawing and unpitied remorse for her levity of conduct, and for the knowledge that she had thrown away the very opportunity she had coveted, to try her power upon her lover's forgiveness. To her "dignity" she must sacrifice an ingenuous confession of sorrow for an error, heartless as it was uncalled for; and the demands of "dignity" superseded the claim of right. So do women often create their own misery, by daring to offend, yet quailing under the degradation of revoking an ungenerous speech. Mr. Wycherly returned to the house, and was ready to receive his daughter and Mr. Spottiswoode when they drove up in his usual way. It never occurred to him that the somewhat long absence of the latter from Lidham was a sure prognostic of a misunderstanding between the parties most interested in the visits. "Why, Spottiswoode, you are a truant, but Pen has caught you at last, I see. She and I thought you were gone for ever, but I'm glad to see you, however." Mr. Wycherly handed his daughter from the barouche-box. "Well, now, come down, for dinner has been ready this half-hour; down with you, my good fellow." Mr. Spottiswoode declined staying dinner; he would take his own horse, and return to Shrewsbury. "My good fellow, what's the matter with you? you won't think of losing your dinner? Nonsense, my dear sir; stay and take your dinner, and go home afterwards, if you like. Here, Pen, try your eloquence." But Miss Wycherly had flown in sorrow and anger to her own room. Mr. Spottiswoode perceived her departure, and it decided his own; he could not be prevailed upon to defer his ride home till the evening. It was evident Miss Wycherly got out of his way, and her manner towards him was offensive; he could not think of remaining at Lidham, to subject himself to repeated annoyances; Mr. Wycherly pressed in vain. "Well, Spottiswoode, you are determined, so I can't help it; but I think there is something in the wind." "I am returning to my mother's house," replied Mr. Spottiswoode, as he shook hands. "Give my compliments," said Mr. Wycherly, "and tell her I say you are an obstinate mule." CHAPTER IX. Miss Wycherly began to lose all hope of recovering her position in Mr. Spottiswoode's heart, unless she could prevail upon herself to make the _amende honorable_; and to that wretched alternative her mind would not bend. Rather would she endure the horrible idea of losing him; rather would she suffer the pangs of jealousy to distract her heart, than "bow down" before him she had offended, or say one word which could lead him to suppose she retracted her offensive coquetry. For some days her spirit chafed in solitude and in silence, and Julia received the following note, a week subsequent to their meeting at Hatton.