Miss Charlotte set a chair for her, observing with a reproving note in her voice: “We believe Lord Rule to be a most eligible gentleman. Though no one,” she added, clasping Miss Winwood’s hand tenderly, “however genteel, could be worthy of ourdearest Lizzie!”

“Lord, Charlotte!” said Mrs Maulfrey tartly, “Rule’s the biggest prize in the market, and you know it. It is the most amazing piece of good fortune ever I heard. Though I will say, Lizzie, you deserve it. Yes, you do, and I am quite enchanted for you. Only to think of the Settlements!”

“I find the thought of Settlements particularly indelicate, Theresa,”said Miss Charlotte. “Mama will no doubt arrange with Lord Rule, but Lizzie cannot be supposed to concern herself with such sordid questions as the size of Lord Rule’s fortune.”

The youngest Miss Winwood, who all the time had continued to sit with her chin in her hands, suddenly raised her head and delivered herself of one shattering word. “S-stuff!” she said, in a deep little voice that just quivered on a stammer.

Miss Charlotte looked pained; Miss Winwood gave a rather wan smile. “Indeed, I fear Horry is in the right,” she said sadly. “It is just the Fortune.” She sank on to the sopha again, and gazed fixedly out of the window.

Mrs Maulfrey became aware that the steady blue eyes were swimming in tears. “Why, Lizzie!” she said. “One would think you had had dark tidings instead of a splendid offer!”

“Theresa!” intoned Miss Charlotte, putting both arms about her sister. “Is this worthy of you? Can it be that you have forgotten Mr Heron?”

Mrs Maulfrey had forgotten Mr Heron. Her jaw dropped slightly, but she recovered in a moment. “To be sure: Mr Heron,” she said. “It is very afflicting, but—Rule, you know! I don’t say poor Mr Heron is not a very estimable creature, but a mere lieutenant, dearest Lizzie, and I daresay will soon have to go back to that horrid war in America—it’s not to be thought of, my love!”