The remembrance of her salutary cautions, however, did not operate upon Lady Wetheral's nerves, or bring calmness to her mind. Clara's words rang in her ears; and her figure, as she knelt in the attitude of upbraiding, glided before her eyes. She could not forget those piercing expressions, "If ever my misery exceeds my forbearance, it will be your doing, oh! hard-hearted mother!" The voice sounded through the house, it followed her into the dressing-room; she complained to Christobelle that it would haunt her in her sleep, and that her death would be caused by filial ingratitude, after all her anxieties to promote her child's welfare. "I am sure these scenes are enough to destroy me, Bell, and I think Thompson might have spared her part in the transaction. She made my dose of sal-volatile exactly to my taste, and now in my extremity I dare not touch your mixtures, for I dare say they would excoriate my throat. Mrs. Bevan will never be what Thompson was; she looks perfectly bewildered when I require any thing. Clara has killed me: ingratitude is, indeed, hard to bear, and it will disgust me from making any further sacrifices on my own part for others. I shall not concern myself with your marriage, Bell. Marry whom you please; but, if you marry less well than your sisters, never come into my presence." Christobelle promised never to marry without her concurrence. "So you all say, and act in defiance when opportunity offers. Say nothing to your father, Bell, about Clara; it was lucky he rode to Shrewsbury this morning; he would have laid the blame upon me, too; he always lectures me now: say nothing about it, pray. What is that?" Her ladyship started. "Oh, it is that ungrateful voice; it spoke quite plain to me! I am sure I shall have a nervous attack, if that voice haunts me."