Mr. Rowland drew a long sigh out of the bottom of his heart. He had not thought much of the young ladies at the Station, the General’s daughters and the others; but Marion, as she stood with her head down and that foolish laugh, conscious of her effect upon the Philosophers, and proud of it, was still another species less honourable to womankind. What Evelyn would say! flashed across his brain like an arrow. But it was not her fault, poor thing; and he could not mend it. It was his duty, at least, as her father, to bear with her, to find no fault. For, after all, this was the natural outlet for a girl who had no other interests in her life. “You must have,” he said, “a little sense to talk to me now and then, for I am past the time for nonsense. There is nobody,” he added with a little hesitation, “who will teach you that better than my wife.” “Oh!” said Marion; then she raised her eyes quickly, “she will be awfully clever, and know everything--for wasn’t she a governess when you were married to her, papa?” “No, she was not a governess,” he said quickly. “That is a delusion which you seem to have got into your minds. Let me hear no more of it. She was a Miss Ferrars, of Langley Ferrars, one of the oldest families in England--as different from me in origin as she is superior to me in every quality. If you were in the very least like her, I should hope one day to be proud of you, Marion. But you will have to get rid of a great many defects first.” Marion made a little _moue_ which was not unnatural. It was of course a very unwise speech on her father’s part--but it is difficult under such exasperation to be always wise. She felt it, however, more prudent to take no notice, but to do her best to find out what were his intentions; which was a matter of the utmost importance to all. “If you please, papa, are we going to live on here with Aunty?” she asked. The question gave him a startling sensation of relief: was it possible that this might be done? Would it not be kinder to leave them in the life to which they were accustomed? Poor Jane would probably break her heart if her children were taken away. They were more her children than his, he reflected; and money was no object. He could arrange their income so as to give Archie the freedom of a young man, without obliging the poor boy to qualify himself suddenly for the rarified atmosphere of Rosmore. This calculation passed through Rowland’s mind with the speed of light. What a happy untying of the knot would it be! He would not require to saddle himself with the discomfort and disappointment which probably would result from any attempt to prepare them for Rosmore. And they would not like Rosmore. It would be dull for them. No debating societies or philosophers’ clubs to enliven their evenings. And the arrangements of the house would be so different. Oh, if he could but solve the question that was before him in that easy way!