that quite yet.'

'You were talking of running away with somebody.'

'I shan't run away with George Whitstable; you may be sure of that.
I'll tell you what I shall do,--I will write papa a letter. I suppose
he'll condescend to read it. If he won't take me up to town himself,
he must send me up to the Primeros. What makes me most angry in the
whole thing is that we should have condescended to be civil to the
Melmottes down in the country. In London one does those things, but to
have them here was terrible!'

During that entire afternoon nothing more was said. Not a word passed
between them on any subject beyond those required by the necessities
of life. Georgiana had been as hard to her sister as to her father,
and Sophia in her quiet way resented the affront. She was now almost
reconciled to the sojourn in the country, because it inflicted a
fitting punishment on Georgiana, and the presence of Mr Whitstable at
a distance of not more than ten miles did of course make a difference
to herself. Lady Pomona complained of a headache, which was always an
excuse with her for not speaking;--and Mr Longestaffe went to sleep.
Georgiana during the whole afternoon remained apart, and on the next
morning the head of the family found the following letter on his
dressing-table:--


My DEAR PAPA

I don't think you ought to be surprised because we feel that our
going up to town is so very important to us. If we are not to be