My brother-in-law left us yesterday, and has put us all into a twitter. He said, just as he was going away, that he didn't believe that Lord Trowbridge had any right to give away the ground, because it had not been in his possession or his family's for a great many years, or something of that sort. We don't clearly understand all about it, nor does he; but he is to find out something which he says he can find out, and then let us know. But in the middle of all this, Frank declares that he won't stir in the matter, and that if he could put the abominable thing down by holding up his finger, he would not do it. And he has made me promise not to talk about it, and, therefore, all I can do is to be in a twitter. If that spiteful old man has really given away land that doesn't belong to him, simply to annoy us,--and it certainly has been done with no other object,--I think that he ought to be told of it. Frank, however, has got to be quite serious about it, and you know how very serious he can be when he is serious. But I did not sit down to write specially about that horrid chapel. I want to know what you mean to do in the summer. It is always better to make these little arrangements beforehand; and when I speak of the summer, I mean the early summer. The long and the short of it is, will you come to us about the end of May? Of course, I know which way your thoughts will go when you get this, and, of course, you will know what I am thinking of when I write it; but I will promise that not a word shall be said to you to urge you in any way. I do not suppose you will think it right that you should stay away from friends whom you love, and who love you dearly, for fear of a man who wants you to marry him. You are not afraid of Mr. Gilmore, and I don't suppose that you are going to shut yourself up all your life because Captain Marrable has not a fortune of his own. Come at any rate. If you find it unpleasant you shall go back just when you please, and I will pledge myself that you shall not be harassed by persuasions. Yours most affectionately, JANET FENWICK. Frank has read this. He says that all I have said about his being serious is a tarradiddle; but that nothing can be more true than what I have said about your friends loving you, and wishing to have you here again. If you were here we might talk him over yet about the chapel. To which, in the Vicar's handwriting, was added the word, "Never!" It was two days before she showed this letter to her aunt--two days in which she had thought much upon the subject. She knew well that her aunt would counsel her to go to Bullhampton, and, therefore, she would not mention the letter till she had made up her own mind. "What will you do?" said her aunt. "I will go, if you do not object." "I certainly shall not object," said Miss Marrable.