Miss Gresham, however, never did become Mrs Moffat.  About two days after Frank’s departure for Cambridge—­it is just possible that Mr Moffat was so prudent as to make himself aware of the fact—­but just two days after Frank’s departure, a very long, elaborate, and clearly explanatory letter was received at Greshamsbury.  Mr Moffat was quite sure that Miss Gresham and her very excellent parents would do him the justice to believe that he was not actuated, &c, &c, &c.  The long and the short of this was, that Mr Moffat signified his intention of breaking off the match without offering any intelligible reason.

Augusta again bore her disappointment well:  not, indeed, without sorrow and heartache, and inward, hidden tears; but still well.  She neither raved, nor fainted, nor walked about by moonlight alone.  She wrote no poetry, and never once thought of suicide.  When, indeed, she remembered the rosy-tinted lining, the unfathomable softness of that Long-acre carriage, her spirit did for one moment give way; but, on the whole, she bore it as a strong-minded woman and a De Courcy should do.

But both Lady Arabella and the squire were greatly vexed.  The former had made the match, and the latter, having consented to it, had incurred deeper responsibilities to enable him to bring it about.  The money which was to have been given to Mr Moffat was still to the fore; but alas! how much, how much that he could ill spare, had been thrown away in bridal preparations!  It is, moreover, an unpleasant thing for a gentleman to have his daughter jilted; perhaps peculiarly so to have her jilted by a tailor’s son.

Lady Arabella’s woe was really piteous.  It seemed to her as though cruel fate were heaping misery after misery upon the wretched house of Greshamsbury.  A few weeks since things were going so well with her!  Frank then was still all but the accepted husband of almost untold wealth—­so, at least, she was informed by her sister-in-law—­whereas, Augusta, was the accepted wife of wealth, not indeed untold, but of dimensions quite sufficiently respectable to cause much joy in the telling.  Where now were her golden hopes?  Where now the splendid future of her poor duped children?  Augusta was left to pine alone; and Frank, in a still worse plight, insisted on maintaining his love for a bastard and a pauper.

For Frank’s affairs she had received some poor consolation by laying all the blame on the squire’s shoulders.  What she had then said was now repaid to her with interest; for not only had she been the maker of Augusta’s match, but she had boasted of the deed with all a mother’s pride.

It was from Beatrice that Frank had obtained his tidings.  This last resolve on the part of Mr Moffat had not altogether been unsuspected by some of the Greshams, though altogether unsuspected by the Lady Arabella.  Frank had spoken of it as a possibility to Beatrice, and was not quite unprepared when the information reached him.  He consequently bought his cutting-whip, and wrote his confidential letter to Harry Baker.