"I am to have the honour of escorting Miss Benson to Wells," Lord Maythorne said, in his honeyed accents.

"Indeed; I am sorry to hear it," Joyce said, sharply.

"I want to see my very old friend, now he is turned into a Benedict, at Fair Acres, and who knows if I may not follow his example. I have known Gratian, I may almost say, from childhood; I cannot profess to have that honour with regard to you, fair niece."

Joyce felt too angry to trust herself to reply, but she turned to Charlotte, and said:

"I want to speak to you, Charlotte, in Piers' room."

Joyce's tone was one of command rather than of entreaty, and Charlotte followed meekly.

As soon as the door was shut, she said: "Surely Charlotte, you are not going to travel to Wells alone with Lord Maythorne?"

Charlotte drew herself erect.

"Yes, I am. Why not? I am engaged to be married to him."

"Oh, Charlotte! it must not be thought of. Aunt Let.i.tia will not allow it."

"Auntie not only allows it, but is quite pleased," Charlotte said.

"Some one must interfere. I cannot see you wilfully ruin the happiness of your whole life by such an act."

"That's just what he said," Charlotte exclaimed. "He said he knew you would make objections, because Gilbert has often meddled in his concerns before; but that will not change me. If you--if you"--Charlotte broke down, and became tearful--"had been so hungry for somebody to care for you as I have been, and had known what it was to be slighted and looked down upon, you would not be so cruel. It is all very well for _you_. But you never did care what became of poor me, and I--I used to love you so much, Joyce."

Charlotte began to sob piteously, and Joyce felt she must appear hard-hearted, and take the consequences.

Just as she had dispelled the vision of the raindrop which was to revive the drooping rose many years ago, so now she must do her best to dispel a far more dangerous illusion.

"Lord Maythorne is not a good man," she said; "he is continually in debt; he often plays high, and he has been living abroad all these years in what manner we hardly know. We believe that he came to Bristol now, simply to get some money out of his sister, my mother-in-law. Surely, Charlotte, you must see that if you marry him you will be miserable."

"Gratian married Melville, and you prophesied the same then; and they are very happy."

"That is a very different case. Gratian is older, wiser, and stronger than Melville, and keeps him right by the force of her own will.

Besides, Melville was weak, and easily yielded to temptation; but he was not like Lord Maythorne, who did his best to ruin him in his Oxford days."

"He says--he says that is all a lie of Gilbert's."

"How dare you speak like that of my husband! A lie! As if he ever stooped to tell a lie." Joyce flushed angrily, and continued: "You are a poor, weak, sentimental girl, not a girl, for you are nearly thirty, and if you do not know what is good for you, you must be taken care of. If my little Lettice wished to eat anything that was poisonous I should take it from her, and by the same rule I shall treat you."

"You have no right over me. Aunt Let.i.tia knows, and _she_ approves, and expects us to-morrow."

But Joyce did not give in one whit.

"Aunt Let.i.tia must be enlightened then," she said, "without loss of time, and I shall take care that she knows the true character of the man to whom she thinks of entrusting you."

Charlotte tried to rally herself, and began to laugh hysterically.

"You think so much of yourself, and that you are so wise, and that Gilbert has made you just like himself, you both think yourselves so good and perfect."

Joyce told herself it was foolish as well as wrong to be angry with Charlotte, who was so unreasoning and feeble-minded.

She left her abruptly, called Susan and the baby, had many rapturous hugs from her little girls and Falcon and then kissing her mother, she bowed to Lord Maythorne, and departed.

Mrs. Arundel was greatly distressed when she heard Joyce's news, and they consulted together what it was best to do.

"After all," Mrs. Arundel said, "neither you nor I have any right over Charlotte. If she is warned, that is all we can do. If Miss Falconer consents, she is her lawful guardian, and stands in the place of her mother."

"Shall we tell Gilbert?"

"I think not, he cannot take any active part in the matter; Dr. Smith has been here, and told me he did not think Gilbert would be able to return to the office for some time, that he had sustained a slight concussion of the brain, and that we were to be careful not to worry him with anything. He advises our making a move to Abbot's Leigh, to that house of Mr. Bayley's, as soon as we can arrange it, and Gilbert is able to bear the drive. He is very kind, and offered his carriage."

"That will be delightful," Joyce said; "the trees are still beautiful in colour, and oh! to be in the real country again with the children. If only Charlotte were not so utterly foolish! I think I shall tell Gilbert quietly, when we are alone together; for he ought to know. Come, baby Joy, let us go and see dear father."

Gilbert turned his head towards the door as Joyce came in.

"Here is baby Joy come to kiss father," she said, dropping the baby down gently into her father's arms.

"Little Joy; well, she looks as sweet as ever--like her mother, well-named. You have been away an age," he said; "it's always like the sun going behind a cloud when you are gone."

"The sun is very grateful for the compliment," Joyce said, seating herself on a low stool by the sofa; "and so is the little sun, isn't she, baby?"

The baby had possessed herself of her father's watch-chain, and was sucking it vigorously.

"I took Falcon to Grannie, because he made your head ache, and I brought back Joy, because she never could make anyone's head ache."

"Poor little Falcon! I am afraid I was very cantankerous this morning, but that dreadful trumpet was rather too much. It is excessively stupid of me to be so long getting well; but, do you know, I am haunted with those terrible scenes of last week, and, with the best intentions of amusing me, Bayley came here and described the condition of Queen's Square, and the charred bodies they found, one, the corpse of an old woman, with a bit of red petticoat clinging to it. Ah! it is awful to think of; and the cure for all this seems so far off."

"It will come at last," Joyce said, with quiet decision.

"Yes, when the whole nation wakes up to see the needs of the poor. We don't help them, nor try to raise them out of their ignorance of the commonest laws of humanity. We have been wholly neglectful of their souls and bodies, and then when they are heated by drink, and let loose their fury against some grievance, like the entrance of the Anti-Reform Recorder into Bristol, we hunt them down, trample them under foot, and never look below the surface to find out what is the bitter root, from which all this springs."

"_You_ look below the surface, dearest; but don't go over it all now; I have a piece of news to tell you, which has made me very angry.

Charlotte Benson says she is engaged to marry your uncle. Can anything be done?"

"Write at once to aunt Let.i.tia to stop it."

"That is the most extraordinary part of the whole affair; she does not disapprove it."

"She must be mad!" said Gilbert, shortly; "what does my mother say?"

"She is afraid of exciting you about it; but she is very much disturbed."

"She may well be. He must be looking after your aunt's money."

"Shall I write to Aunt Let.i.tia?"

"Yes; I only wish I were well, and not laid on the shelf like this, and I would go to Wells to-morrow."