For Lucy, in self-defence, had begun to cry, and her grandmother
seemed much disposed to do the same. Miss Meadows had tears in her
eyes, and incoherencies on her lips. The distress drove away all
Albinia's inclination to laugh, and clasping her two hands over her
husband's arm, she said, 'Don't, Edmund, it is only a misunderstanding
of what really happened. I did have a silly fit, you know, so it
is my fault.'

'I cannot forgive for you as you do for yourself,' said Mr. Kendal,
with a look that was precious to her, though it might have given a
pang to the Meadowses. 'I did not imagine that my daughter could be
so lost to the sense of your kindness and forbearance. Have you
nothing to say, Lucy?'

'Poor child! she cannot speak,' said her grandmother. 'You see she
is very sorry, and Mrs. Kendal is too kind to wish to say any more
about it.'

'Go home at once, Lucy,' said her father. 'Perhaps solitude may
bring you to a better state of feeling. Go!'

Direct resistance to Mr. Kendal was never thought of, and Lucy turned
to go. Her aunt chose to accompany her, and though this was a
decided relief to the company she left, it was not likely to be the
best thing for the young lady herself.

Mr. Kendal gave his arm to Mrs. Meadows, saying gravely that Lucy
must not be encouraged in her habit of gossiping and inaccuracy.
Mrs. Meadows quite agreed with him, it was a very bad habit for a