that they would frighten Mrs. James Frost out of her senses. When
Charlotte told her what was the matter, her comment was, 'And a very
good thing, too, that you should find him out in time! A pair of
silly girls you! I always was thankful I never could write, to be
deluded with nonsense by the post; and I am more so than ever now!
Come, leave off crying, Marianne; he ain't worth it.'

'But how shall we answer him, Mrs. Beckett?' said Charlotte.

'Never demean yourself to answer him,' said Jane; 'let him never hear
nought about you--that's the best for the like of him. I can tell
him he need not be in no hurry about giving warning to Lady Conway.
At Cheveleigh we'll have a solemn, steady butler, with no nonsense,
nor verses, nor guitars--forty years old--and a married man.'

Charlotte took the advice, and acted with dignified contempt and
silence, relieved to imagine that Tom had never been in danger from
such a rival. Marianne did not divulge the tender and melancholy
letter of reproach that she posted privately; but she grew paler, and
coughed more, all that bright summer.

Mrs. Frost had refused to let any cause remove her from Northwold,
until after an event which it was hoped would render James less
disdainful of his inheritance. But--'Was there ever anything more
_contrary_?' exclaimed Jane, as she prepared to set out the table for
a grand tea. 'There's Master James as pleased and proud of that
there little brown girl, as if she was as fine a boy as Master Henry
himself. I do believe, upon my word, it is all to spite poor dear
Master Oliver.'