"News? none; not a scrap, positively not a scrap; nobody in town, not a soul. I didn't wait there above a day, but came through at once."
"You did not stop long enough to see the Churchills, I suppose?"
"The--eh? I beg your pardon, I did not catch the name."
"The Churchills."
"Churchills!" echoed Miss Lexden, with the greatest deliberation; "Churchills! I have not the least idea who you mean."
"Ah!" said Sir Marmaduke, through his closed teeth. "No, of course not; you don't recollect your own brother's child, even when there's no one in town. If it had been in the season, I could not have attempted to suggest any thing so horribly low; but I thought perhaps, that when there was not a soul in town, as you said, you might have thought of the girl who is of your blood, and who has been, as it were, your daughter for ten years." And the old gentleman stamped his stick on the floor, and looked fiercely across at his cousin.
"O--h!" said Miss Lexden, perfectly calmly. "I didn't follow you at first; now I see. It seems strange to me that a man with your knowledge of the world, Marmaduke Wentworth,--more especially with your knowledge of me, derived in times past, when you had full opportunity of making yourself acquainted with my character,--should have imagined that I should for an instant have altered in my purpose as regards my niece Barbara. What is there to induce me to swerve one atom from--"
"What?" interrupted Sir Marmaduke; "What? Old age, Susan Lexden! You and I are two old people, who ought to be thankful to have been left here so long; and not to bear malice and all sorts of miserable hatred in our old age, more especially to our own kindred. You're vexed with Barbara, not unnaturally, as you'd set your heart upon seeing her married to a rich man; but that's over now, and so make the best of it. Her husband's a good fellow and a gentleman; so what more do you want?"
"What more!" exclaimed the old lady; "what more! Freedom from this style of conversation; permission to go my own way without comment or impertinent suggestion. I use the adjective advisedly; I claim my right to visit those whom I like, to ignore those whom I dislike, without such remarks from those who I distinctly say have no right to make them. And, however old I may be, I am not yet sufficiently in my dotage to show affection, kindness, no, nor even recognition, to those who have wilfully disregarded my desires."
So Sir Marmaduke retired worsted from the conflict, and contented himself with writing a letter to Major Stone, bidding that worthy: take the first opportunity of a visit to town to ascertain how Churchill and Barbara were getting on.