Mary felt her heart sink and rise, and her throat swell, so that she could not speak.  She had brought herself to the determination of employing her talents for her own support, but she was not prepared to come with her family before the world as paupers.  “We have no claim upon the public,” she said at last.  “I am sure you mean us kindly, but we have no claim.  My dear father forwarded no public work—­no public object; he gave his advice, and received his payment.  If we are not provided for, it is no public fault.  Besides, my father’s children are able and willing to support themselves.  I am sure you mean us kindly, but we have no claim upon public sympathy, and an appeal to it would crush us to the earth.  I am very glad you did not speak first to my mother.  My uncle Charles would not suffer it, even suppose she wished it.”

This friend also departed to excite new speculations as to the pride and poverty of “poor dear Dr. Adams’s family.”  In the world, however—­the busy busy London world—­it is idle to expect any thing to create even a nine days’ wonder.  When the house and furniture were at last offered for sale, the feeling was somewhat revived; and Mary, whose beauty, exquisite as it was, had so unobtrusive a character as never to have created a foe, was remembered with tears by many:  even the father of her old lover, when he was congratulated by one more worldly-minded than himself on the escape of his son in not marrying a portionless girl, reproved the unfeeling speaker with a wish that he only hoped his son might have as good a wife as Mary Adams would have been.

CHAPTER V.

The bills were taken down, the house purified from the auction-mob—­every thing changed; a new name occupied the doctor’s place in the “Court Guide”—­and in three months the family seemed as completely forgotten amongst those of whom they once formed a prominent part, as if they had never existed.  When one sphere of life closes against a family, they find room in another.  Many kind-hearted persons in Mrs. Adams’s first circle would have been rejoiced to be of service to her and hers, but they were exactly the people upon whom she had no claim.  Of a high but poor family, her relatives had little power.  What family so situated ever had any influence beyond what they absolutely needed for themselves?  With an ill grace she at last acceded to the kind offer made by Mr. Charles Adams, and took possession of the cottage he fixed upon, until something could be done for his brother’s children.  In a fit of proud despair the eldest son enlisted into a regiment of dragoons; the second was fortunate enough to obtain a cadetship through a stranger’s interference; and his uncle thought it might be possible to get the youngest forward in his father’s profession.  The expense of the necessary arrangements was severely felt by the prudent and careful country gentleman.  The younger girls were too delicate for even the common occupations of daily life; and Mary, instead of receiving the welcome she had been led to expect from her aunt and cousins, felt that every hour she spent at the Grange was an intrusion.