Anthony sighed involuntarily. Yes, he was out, indeed, in the wet and cold at Willsworthy--not metaphorically only, but actually as well. "Now," continued Julian, "you shall hear the whole plan as worked out. Fox has gone in to-day to meet Bessie and your father at your Aunt Magdalen's house, and your aunt has been inveigled into uniting her persuasion to the commands of your father to induce Bessie to jump down the Fox's throat." "It cannot be," said Anthony. "Bess will never--and she does not care for Fox." "She may not have the power to resist. Girls have not the daring and independence of you men. When Fox has got his way, then he intends to change his name, and live at Hall with your father, who will re-settle the property on him and his heirs, that so there may still be an Anthony Cleverdon of Hall." "Never! No--never!" exclaimed Anthony, springing to his feet. "He cannot--he shall not do that. Fox will never play me such a base trick as that! Bessie never will lend herself to be made a tool of like that!" "Bessie is true to you--that never doubt; but do not lean on my brother: he is false to every one." "He never shall become a Cleverdon. What! Good heavens! He take my name, my place, my rights, my inheritance, my everything?" "Not everything," said Julian, maliciously. "He does not stretch a hand for your Urith and for Willsworthy--only for what you tossed away as valueless." Anthony uttered an oath, and cast himself back where he had been before, in the seat in the window, and put his hands to his brow and clasped them there, leaning his head against the window sill. Then, for some while, both remained silent, but Julian turned herself about in her seat to look at him.