“You shall do no such thing!” cried her ladyship. Richard flew up the stair, and, believing Miss Malliver had not gone to his sister, went straight to her room. The moment Theodora saw him, she sprang from the bed where she had lain weeping, and threw herself into his arms. He was the only one who had ever made her feel what a man might be to a woman! He told her he had come to bid her good-bye. She looked wild. “But you're not going _really_--for altogether?” she said. “My dear sister, what else can I do? Nobody here wants me!” “Indeed, Richard, _I_ do!” “I know you do--and the time will come when you shall have me; but you would not have me live where I am not loved!” “Richard!” she cried, with a burst of indignation, the first, I fancy, she had ever felt, or at least given way to, “you are the only gentleman in the family!” Richard laughed, and Theodora dried her eyes. Miss Malliver was near enough to be able to report, and the poor girl had a bad time of it in consequence. “I will not trouble Arthur,” said Richard. “Say good-bye to him for me, and give him my love. Please tell him that, although all I had was my father's yet, as between him and me, Miss Brown is mine, and I expect him to send her to Wylder Hall. Good-bye again to my dear sister! I leave a bit of my heart in the house, where I know it will not be trampled on!” Theodora could not speak. Her only answer was another embrace, and they parted. Richard went to see Barbara, and found her at the parsonage. “What an opportunity you have,” said Wingfold, “of maintaining before the world the honour of work! The man who makes a thing exist that did not exist, or who sets anything right that had gone wrong, must be more worthy than he who only consumes what exists, or helps things to remain wrong!” “But,” suggested Barbara, with her usual keenness, “are you not now encouraging him to seek the praise of men? To seek it for a good thing, is the more contemptible.”