her to distrust profoundly those impulses of mere nature. And the
circumstances of her own unhappy affection tended to confirm her in
this way of thinking. Letty Tew certainly thought otherwise, but was
not Letty's own heart too exclusively occupied by worldly
considerations?

Yet it said 'love.' Perchance that was something which would come
after marriage; the promise, observe, concerned the future. But she
was not merely indifferent; she shrank from Mutimer.

She returned home from the lecture to-day full of dread--dread more
active than she had yet known. And it drove her to a step she had
timidly contemplated for more than a week. She stole from the house,
bent on seeing Mr. Wyvern. She could not confess to him, but she
could speak of the conflict between her mother's will and her own,
and beg his advice; perhaps, if he appeared favourable, ask him to
intercede with her mother. She had liked Mr. Wyvern from the first
meeting with him, and a sense of trust had been nourished by each
succeeding conversation. In her agitation she thought it would not
be hard to tell him so much of the circumstances as would enable him
to judge and counsel.

Yet it was with relief, on the whole, that she turned homewards with
her object unattained. It would be much better to wait and test
herself yet further. Why should she not speak with her mother about
that vow she was asked to make?

She did not seek solitude again, but joined her mother and Alfred in
the sitting-room. Mrs. Waltham made no inquiry about the short
absence. Alfred had only just called to mind the newspaper which Mr.