"Altogether, Bell, what with your dullness, and Clara's temper, I have never been happy since your sisters married. I have endured a great deal from your father's violence, too, lately; last night he was indescribably violent, and I am sinking into ill-health. He is resolved Clara shall not be Lady Kerrison, and he has ordered the poor dear man to be shown into the study when he calls to-day. Do be there, Bell, and report the whole affair; you surely have just capacity for that?"
"Report nothing," said Clara, without raising her eyes from her book.
"My dear Clara, you really shock me!" Her mother laid down her vinaigrette, and took up the eau-de-luce. "My dear girl, you frighten me with such abrupt and alarming sentences. Do you not intend to marry Sir Foster Kerrison?"
"Of course I do," replied Clara, haughtily.
"Then, my love, why do you forbid Bell reporting his interview with your father?"
"I hate all that nonsense and tale-bearing; let Bell alone; why is she to be taught eavesdropping?"
"Really, Clara, you are becoming quite harsh. I certainly never taught any of you to do wrong, unless procuring the best alliances for you all is considered an injury. I cannot approve your remark, my dear love, at all."
Miss Wetheral did not reply.
"I cannot make out Clara's temper, Bell," whispered her mother, "there is nothing to be got at in her; I never can have any influence, when I particularly wish to point her attention to circumstances; however, I must let her take her own way, for she means to marry Sir Foster, I see, and my mind is fixed upon that match. Well, I shall rise, now, but I am seriously ill from your father's imperious conduct last night."
"I am very sorry, mamma."