Mrs Naylor read, and but for the sudden flushing of her features, controlled herself from any outward betrayal of displeasure. It is the one unmixed good which comes of living in public, that people are compelled to suppress their manifestations of feeling; and, driven by stress of circumstances to seem calm, the more speedily become so really. Reason, unimpeded by emotion, which is nourished on its own manifestations, comes sooner to the rescue, and shows how few miscarriages are worth the distress we are apt to give ourselves over them. In pretending before observers to make light of a disappointment, we involuntarily give heed to our own words, and come to think less of it than otherwise we should have done. Mrs Naylor's mind, instead of dwelling on her provocation, was forced to conceal the wound from the impertinently curious, and thereby dividing itself upon two views of the subject--the grievance and its concealment--was less disturbed by either. The first idea which came distinct to the surface, through her mental perturbation, was an appreciation of her own good sense; and her good fortune, in having boasted, immediately before having received this news, of her son-in-law's high connections. Now that the young man was indissolubly knotted to her family, and she must make the most of him, the Custos Rotulorum, with his ancestral hall in Memicombshire, was the sheet-anchor of his claim to consequence. If it was an ideal claim, instead of the grossly real one she had desired for her daughter's husband, it was infinitely finer in kind; and she prepared to take it up, and brandish it vigorously, to cow and overpower impressible minds, and suppress colonial pretension. She began to feel quite imperial, after a little trying, and when dinner was over, had come to feel that a Custos Rotulorum made an infinitely finer father-in-law for her girl than all the judges in the Dominion rolled into one could have done. When the ladies gathered up-stairs, therefore, she played her best card, under the circumstances, with quite a good heart; she showed them her telegram, and claimed their congratulations. She talked effusively of "an old attachment"--"two romantic children, who could not bring themselves to profane the interchange of their holy vows, with the garish vulgarities of orange-blossoms and Brussels lace, bride's-maids, breakfast, and speechifying, but had resolved to go away by themselves and be married in peace." "She had been persuaded to keep their secret and say nothing." "They were away on their wedding tour, now; but she was still under promise to reveal no more." "They might have gone to California or to visit the Custos Rotulorum," she would not say which, but she let it be inferred that it was England and the ancestral hall, to which their happy steps were bent.