Though there was an air of badinage, almost of tomfoolery, about Dolly when she spoke of her matrimonial prospects to her father,—as when she said that she would "stick a knife" into Mr. Barry,—still there was a seriousness in all she said which was more than grave. She was pathetic and melancholy. She knew that there was nothing before her but to stay with her father, and then to devote herself to her cousins, from whom she was aware that she recoiled almost with hatred. And she knew that it would be a good thing to be married,—if only the right man would come. The right man would have to bear with her father, and live in the same house with him to the end. The right man must be a preux chevalier sans peur et sans reproche. The right man must be strong-minded and masterful, and must have a will of his own; but he must be strong-minded always for good. And where was she to find such a man as this? she who was only an attorney\'s daughter,—plain, too, and with many eccentricities. She was not intended to marry, and consequently the only man who came in her way was her father\'s partner, for whom, in regard to a share in the business, she might be desirable.

Devotion to the Carroll cousins was manifestly her duty. The two eldest girls she absolutely did hate, and their father. To hate the father, because he was vicious beyond cure, might be very well; but she could not hate the girls without being aware that she was guilty of a grievous sin. Every taste possessed by them was antagonistic to her. Their amusements, their literature, their clothes, their manners,—especially in regard to men,—their gestures and color, were distasteful to her. "They hide their dirt with a thin veneer of cheap finery," said Dolly to her father. He had replied by telling her that she was nasty. "No; but, unfortunately, I cannot but see nastiness." Dolly herself was clean to fastidiousness. Take off her coarse frock, and there the well-dressed lady began. "Look at the heels of Sophie\'s boots! Give her a push, and she\'d fall off her pins as though they were stilts. They\'re always asking to have a shoemaker\'s bill paid, and yet they won\'t wear stout boots." "I\'ll pay the man," she said to Amelia one day, "if you\'ll promise to wear what I\'ll buy you for the next six months." But Amelia had only turned up her nose. These were the relatives to whom it would become her duty to devote her life!

The next morning she started off to call in Bolsover Terrace with an intention, not to begin her duty, but to make a struggle at the adequate performance of it. She took with her some article of clothing intended for one of the younger children, but which the child herself was to complete. But when she entered the parlor she was astounded at finding that Mr. Carroll was there. It was nearly twelve o\'clock, and at that time Mr. Carroll never was there. He was either in bed, or at Tattersall\'s, or—Dolly did not care where. She had long since made up her mind that there must be a permanent quarrel between herself and her uncle, and her desire was generally respected. Now, unfortunately, he was present, and with him were his wife and two elder daughters. To be devoted, thought Dolly to herself, to such a family as this,—and without anybody else in the world to care for! She gave her aunt a kiss, and touched the girls\' hands, and made a very distant bow to Mr. Carroll. Then she began about the parcel in her hands, and, having given her instructions, was preparing to depart.

But her aunt stopped her. "I think you ought to know, Dorothea."

"Certainly," said Mr. Carroll. "It is quite right that your cousin should know."

"If you think it proper, I\'m sure I can\'t object," said Amelia.

"She won\'t approve, I\'m sure," said Sophie.

"Her young man has come forward and spoken," said Mr. Carroll.

"And quite in a proper spirit," said Amelia.

"Of course," said Mrs. Carroll, "we are not to expect too much. Though we are respectable in birth, and all that, we are poor. Mr. Carroll has got nothing to give her."

"I\'ve been the most unfortunate man in the world," said Mr. Carroll.

"We won\'t talk about that now," continued Mrs. Carroll. "Here we are without anything."

"You have decent blood," said Dolly; "at any rate on one side,"—for she did not believe in the Carrolls.

"On both,—on both," said Mr. Carroll, rising up, and putting his hand upon his heart. "I can boast of royal blood among my ancestors."

"But here we are without anything," said Mrs. Carroll again. "Mr. Juniper is a most respectable man."

"He has been attached to some of the leading racing establishments in the kingdom," said Mr. Carroll. Dolly had heard of Mr. Juniper as a trainer, though she did not accurately know what a trainer meant.

"He is almost as great a man as the owner, for the matter of that," said Amelia, standing up for her lover.

"He is not to say young,—perhaps forty," said Mrs. Carroll, "and he has a very decent house of his own at Newmarket." Dolly immediately began to think whether this might be for the better or for the worse. Newmarket was a long way off, and the girl would be taken away; and it might be a good thing to dispose of one of such a string of daughters, even to Mr. Juniper. Of course there would be the disagreeable nature of the connection. But, as Dolly had once said to her father, their share of the world\'s burdens had to be borne, and this was one of them. Her first cousin must marry the trainer. She, who had spoken so enthusiastically about gentlemen, must put up with it. She knew that Mr. Juniper was but a small man in his own line, but she would never disown him by word of mouth. He should be her cousin Juniper. But she did hope that she might not be called upon to see him frequently. After all, he might be much more respectable than Mr. Carroll.

"I am glad he has a house of his own," said Dolly.

"It is a much better house than Fulham Manor," said Amelia.

Dolly was angered, not at the comparison between the houses, but at the ingratitude and insolence of the girl. "Very well," said she, addressing herself to her aunt; "if her parents are contented, of course it is not for me or for papa to be discontented. The thing to think of is the honesty of the man and his industry,—not the excellence of the house."

"But you seemed to think that we were to live in a pigsty," said Amelia.

"Mr. Juniper stands very high on the turf," said Mr. Carroll. "Mr. Leadabit\'s horses have always run straight, and Mousetrap won the Two-year-old Trial Stakes last spring, giving two pounds to Box-and-Cox. A good-looking, tall fellow. You remember seeing him here once last summer." This was addressed to Miss Grey; but Miss Grey had made up her mind never to exchange a word with Mr. Carroll.

"When is it to be, my dear?" said Miss Grey, turning to the ladies, but intending to address herself to Amelia. She had already made up her mind to forgive the girl for her insolence about the house. If the girl was to be taken away, there was so much the more reason for forgiving her that and other things.

"Oh! I thought that you did not mean to speak to me at all," said Amelia. "I supposed the cut was to be extended from papa to me."

"Amelia, how can you be so silly?" said the mother.

"If you think I\'m going to put up with that kind of thing, you\'re mistaken," said Amelia. She had got not only a lover but a husband in prospect, and was much superior to her cousin,—who had neither one or the other, as far as she was aware. "Mr. Juniper, with an excellent house and a plentiful income, is quite good enough for me, though he hasn\'t got any regal ancestors." She did not intend to laugh at her father, but was aware that something had been said about ancestors by her cousin. "A gentleman who has the management of horses is almost the same as owning them."

"But when is it to be?" again asked Dolly.

"That depends a little upon my brother," said Mrs. Carroll, in a voice hardly above a whisper. "Mr. Juniper has spoken about a day."

"Then it will depend chiefly on himself and the young lady, I suppose?"

"Well, Dorothea, there are money difficulties. There\'s no denying it."

"I wish I could shower gold into her lap," said Mr. Carroll, "only for the accursed conventionalities of the world."

"Bother, papa!" said Sophia.

"It will be the last of it, as far as I am concerned," said Amelia.

"Mr. Juniper has said something about a few hundred pounds," said Mrs. Carroll. "It isn\'t much that he wants."

Then Miss Grey spoke in a severe tone. "You must speak to my father about that."

"I am not to have your good word, I suppose,&quo............