were people apart, ladies, and yet so extremely poor that they could only maintain their rank by the most rigid seclusion.  To live, and work unseen, was what the world had ordained for her.  Then her call to Exeter had come upon her, and she had conceived that she was henceforth to be the humble companion of a very imperious old aunt.  Her aunt, indeed, was imperious, but did not seem to require humility in her companion.  All the good things that were eaten and drunk were divided between them with the strictest impartiality.  Dorothy’s cushion and hassock in the church and in the cathedral were the same as her aunt’s.  Her bed-room was made very comfortable for her.  Her aunt never gave her any orders before company, and always spoke of her before the servants as one whom they were to obey and respect.  Gradually Dorothy came to understand the meaning of this, but her aunt would sometimes say things about young men which she did not quite understand.  Could it be that her aunt supposed that any young man would come and wish to marry her—­her, Dorothy Stanbury?  She herself had not quite so strong an aversion to men in general as that which Priscilla felt, but she had not as yet found that any of those whom she had seen at Exeter were peculiarly agreeable to her.  Before she went to bed that night her aunt said a word to her which startled her more than she had ever been startled before.  On that evening Miss Stanbury had a few friends to drink tea with her.  There were Mr and Mrs Crumbie, and Mrs MacHugh of course, and the Cheritons from Alphington, and the Miss Apjohns from Helion Villa, and old Mr Powel all the way from Haldon, and two of the Wrights from their house in the Northernhay, and Mr Gibson; but the Miss Frenches from Heavitree were not there.  ‘Why don’t you have the Miss Frenches, aunt?’ Dorothy had asked.

’Bother the Miss Frenches!  I’m not bound to have them every time.  There’s Camilla has been and got herself a band-box on the back of her head a great deal bigger than the place inside where her brains ought to be.’  But the band-box at the back of Camilla French’s head was not the sole cause of the omission of the two sisters from the list of Miss Stanbury’s visitors on this occasion.

The party went off very much as usual.  There were two whist tables, for Miss Stanbury could not bear to cut out.  At other houses than her own, when there was cutting out, it was quite understood that Miss Stanbury was to be allowed to keep her place.  ’I’ll go away, and sit out there by myself, if you like,’ she would say.  But she was never thus banished; and at her own house she usually contrived that there should be no system of banishment.  She would play dummy whist, preferring it to the four-handed game; and, when hard driven, and with a meet opponent, would not even despise double-dummy.  It was told of her and of Mrs MacHugh that they had played double-dummy for a whole evening together; and they who were given to calumny had declared that the candles on that evening