Unfortunately, as it happened, Mr. Villars was met, not far from his own door, by Mr. Stokes, who skilfully managed to get him to ask him in to dinner. That he had but one object in doing so, was evident, by the pointed attentions he paid to Mabel; and, in the evening, having managed to get her to play a game of chess—he kept her over it for an hour or two, refusing to see any of her mistakes, or to take any of the pieces she carefully threw in his way. She grew more and more impatient, when she saw that he was bent upon keeping her; and when she had been nearly three hours over the game, she begged him to allow her to give it him.
"On one condition," he replied, "that you will allow me to give you any thing I like in return; this, for instance," he continued in the same low key, glancing down significantly at the large strong hand which rested carelessly on the chess-board.
"No no," said Mabel, blushing from her neck to her forehead; "I gave you the game, but I will never take any thing in return."
The last few words were said with decision, and point, though covered by the appearance of jest, as she rose and left the table. Maria saw every thing, and marked well the expression of Mr. Stokes's face, so serious, so unlike his usual jocular tone.
"It will be too late," she said to herself again and again, "if I do not take care, but I will trust to my wits still." Mr. Stokes soon afterwards took his leave.
Before they went to rest, the mother and sisters found an opportunity of talking over Mabel's coquetry—and so far strengthened themselves in the idea of the necessity of removing her, that Mrs. Villars determined to do so, whatever came of it.
[CHAPTER VI.]
Mourn not the perishing of each fair toy,
Ye were ordained to do, not to enjoy,
To suffer, which is nobler than to dare;
A sacred burthen is this life ye bear,
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly,
Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly;
Fall not for sorrow, falter not for sin,
But onward, upward, till the goal ye win.