She went to her room, and slept soundly, innocent of wrong, and ignorant of the scene which took place in her mother's room, in consequence of her unfortunate disclosure. Christobelle was summoned to Lady Wetheral's bed-side after breakfast; Clara was seated reading near the window, and a small table covered with essence-bottles told her at a glance there had been strife. Christobelle was accosted with much irony. "Peacemakers are desirable people, Bell, and, doubtless, your heart is enjoying the harmony you have created; pray advance, and behold your delightful work. Am I quite as miserable as you wish, Christobelle? or have you any little poisoned arrow to apply, by way of completing my distress? Pray do me the honour to inform me what my next annoyance shall be!" Christobelle stood in astonishment; her mother was very seldom bitter in her remarks. "I suppose you are not aware you have procured the dismissal of Sir Foster Kerrison, and may, probably, be the cause of your sister taking strong steps to assert herself. I suppose you are not aware you have made her and myself wretched, by your stupid matter of fact!" Lady Wetheral laid down her salts bottle, and took up the vinaigrette; Christobelle could only weep, and plead ignorance of all intention of offending. "Well, there's no help, now," continued her mother, changing her tone, and resuming the language of complaint. "You have done mischief, and you must endeavour to repair it. Your father intends to see Sir Foster to-day, and I am too ill to interfere; he will be violent, I dare say, for he has quite changed his nature, and his violence to me lately has been extraordinary; I know he will forget himself, and offend Sir Foster. Now, Bell, you must manage to place a slip of paper in Sir Foster's hand as he leaves the room, and do not make such mistakes as you generally contrive to do with your horrible matter of fact ways." "There is no occasion for any slip of paper," observed Clara, without raising her eyes from the book she held before her. "My dear Clara, yes!" said her mother, in an earnest tone. "I choose to manage my own affairs," was Clara's quiet reply. "But, my love, my dear Clara, remember Sir Foster's wretched memory! he requires some management!" "I shall attend to all that is necessary," replied Clara. "Well, my love, I ask no questions; indeed, I have no wish to interfere; I have done all _I_ could do, in bringing Sir Foster to propose, and you must guard your own property now. I ask no questions; we will ask no questions, Bell; we will not be curious. I have neither eyes nor ears, Clara; I have only sunny thoughts, bright visions of Lady Kerrison presiding at Ripley, in spite of appearances; but, Bell, you must be blind: with all your might, remember; no more mistakes, if you please, and you may be of some use; you are too old to affect ignorance now, and I cannot excuse it."