a low constrained voice.

'I do not know what you mean by being kept here. This is your home,
and this is where you may make up your minds to live.'

'But we are to go back?' demanded Sophia. Georgiana stood by in
silence, listening, resolving, and biding her time.

'You'll not return to London this season,' said Mr Longestaffe,
turning himself abruptly to a newspaper which he held in his hands.

'Do you mean that that is settled?' said Lady Pomona. 'I mean to say
that that is settled,' said Mr Longestaffe. Was there ever treachery
like this! The indignation in Georgiana's mind approached almost to
virtue as she thought of her father's falseness. She would not have
left town at all but for that promise. She would not have contaminated
herself with the Melmottes but for that promise. And now she was told
that the promise was to be absolutely broken, when it was no longer
possible that she could get back to London,--even to the house of the
hated Primeros,--without absolutely running away from her father's
residence! 'Then, papa,' she said, with affected calmness, 'you have
simply and with premeditation broken your word to us.'

'How dare you speak to me in that way, you wicked child!'

'I am not a child, papa, as you know very well. I am my own mistress,--
by law.'

'Then go and be your own mistress. You dare to tell me, your father,
that I have premeditated a falsehood! If you tell me that again, you