“I do, and would liefer by far talk to you, ma’am, than to Mr Dunston! How do you do? Not in very good point, I’m afraid—but don’t doubt you will assure me that you’re in high force! This is an anxious time for you.”

“Yes, but I know that if—if anything had happened—anything bad—I must have had news of it, so I won’t let myself fall into dejection, or post up to London, until my brother sends me word. When that happens, I shall cast Lavinia on your hands, and be off. I was so very much obliged to Miss Wendover for offering to take charge of her! But it is you who will do that: you don’t object?”

“My dear ma’am, how can you ask? I am naturally cast into the greatest agitation by the very thought of having so onerous a burden thrust upon me! It is only civility that prompts me to say that I shall be charmed to take care of Lavinia.”

Mrs Grayshott smiled, and pressed her hand. “I knew I might depend on you. I don’t think she will be a trouble to you. What I do think—Abby, may I speak frankly to you?”

“If you please! Though I fancy I know what it is that you do think. Fanny?”

Mrs Grayshott nodded. “You know, then? I’m glad you’ve come home: I have been feeling a little anxious. Your sister is a dear kind creature, but—”

She hesitated, and Abby said coolly: “Very true! A dear kind nodcock! She seems to have fallen quite under the spell of this Calverleigh.”

“Well, he—he is very engaging,” said Mrs Grayshott reluctantly. “Only there is something about him which I can’t quite like! It is difficult to explain, because I haven’t any cause to take him in dislike. Except—” Again she hesitated, but upon being urged to continue, said: “Abby, no man could be blamed for falling in love with Fanny, but I don’t think that a man of principle, so much older than she is, would wish her—far less urge her!—to do what might easily set people in a bustle.