appearance, and habit of command, had whispered to her a word. Why
should not Florence be transferred with the remainder of the property?
There was something to Mrs. Mountjoy's feelings base in the idea at the
first blush of it. She did not like to be untrue to her gallant nephew.
But as she came to turn it in her mind there were certain circumstances
which recommended the change to her--should the change be necessary.
Florence certainly had expressed an unintelligible objection to the
elder brother. Why should the younger not be more successful? Mrs.
Mountjoy's heart had begun to droop within her as she had thought that
her girl would prove deaf to the voice of the charmer. Another charmer
had come, most objectionable in her sight, but to him no word of
absolute encouragement had, as she thought, been yet spoken. Augustus
had already obtained for himself among his friends the character of an
eloquent young lawyer. Let him come and try his eloquence on his
cousin,--only let it first be ascertained, as an assured fact, and beyond
the possibility of all retrogression, that the squire's villainy was
certain.

"I think, my love," she said to her daughter one day, "that, under the
immediate circumstances of the family, we should retire for a while into
private life." This occurred on the very day on which Septimus Jones had
been vaguely informed of the iniquitous falsehood of Harry Annesley.

"Good gracious, mamma, is not our life always private?" She had
understood it all,--that the private life was intended altogether to
exclude Harry, but was to be made open to the manoeuvres of her cousin,
such as they might be.

"Not in the sense in which I mean. Your poor uncle is dying."