"I--I--don't know. I have not felt in the humour for coming to church. It's no use to come and kneel in a holy place with rebellious thoughts in my heart. I come on Sundays for decency's sake; but I think it is better to keep away from the week-day services till I am in a better temper." "I don't think that's quite the way to recover your temper, dear." Violet was silent, and there was a rather awkward pause. "Will you have a cup of tea, dear?" asked Mrs. Tempest. "No, thanks, mamma. I think, unless you have something very particular to say to me, I had better take my muddy habit off your carpet. I feel rather warm and dusty. I shall be glad to change my dress." "But I have something very particular to say, Violet. I won't detain you long. You'd better have a cup of tea." "Just as you please, mamma." And forgetful of her clay-bespattered habit, Violet sank into one of the satin-covered chairs, and made a wreck of an antimacassar worked in crewels by Mrs. Tempest's own hands. "I am going to write to Madame Theodore by this evening's post, Violet," said her mother, handing her a cup of tea, and making believe not to see the destruction of that exquisite antimacassar; "and I should like to order your dress--for--the wedding. I have been thinking that cream-colour and pale blue would suit you to perfection. A cream-coloured hat--the Vandyck shape--with a long blue ostrich----" "Please don't take any trouble about it, mamma," said Vixen, whose cheek had paled at the word "wedding," and who now sat very erect in her chair, holding her cup and saucer firmly. "I am not going to be present at your wedding, so I shall not want a dress." "Violet!" cried Mrs. Tempest, beginning to tremble. "You cannot mean what you say. You have been very unkind, very undutiful. You have made me perfectly miserable for the last seven weeks; but I cannot believe that you would--grossly insult me--by refusing to be present at my wedding." "I do not wish to insult you, mamma. I am very sorry if I have pained you; but I cannot and will not be present at a marriage the very idea of which is hateful to me. If my presence could give any sanction to this madness of yours, that sanction shall not be given." "Violet, have you thought what you are doing? Have you considered what will be said--by the world?" "I think the world--our world--must have made up its mind about your second marriage already, mamma," Vixen answered quietly. "My absence from your wedding can make very little difference." "It will make a very great difference; and you know it!" cried Mrs. Tempest, roused to as much passion as she was capable of feeling. "People will say that my daughter sets her face against my marriage--my daughter, who ought to sympathise with me, and rejoice that I have found a true friend and protector." "I cannot either sympathise or rejoice, mamma. It is much better that I should stop away from your wedding. I should look miserable, and make other people uncomfortable."