What was it that made Pitt's pale face flush quite red? Was it because

he was Sir Pitt at last, with a seat in Parliament, and perhaps future

honours in prospect? "I'll clear the estate now with the ready money,"

he thought and rapidly calculated its incumbrances and the improvements

which he would make. He would not use his aunt's money previously lest

Sir Pitt should recover and his outlay be in vain.

All the blinds were pulled down at the Hall and Rectory: the church

bell was tolled, and the chancel hung in black; and Bute Crawley didn't

go to a coursing meeting, but went and dined quietly at Fuddleston,

where they talked about his deceased brother and young Sir Pitt over

their port. Miss Betsy, who was by this time married to a saddler at

Mudbury, cried a good deal. The family surgeon rode over and paid his

respectful compliments, and inquiries for the health of their

ladyships. The death was talked about at Mudbury and at the Crawley

Arms, the landlord whereof had become reconciled with the Rector of

late, who was occasionally known to step into the parlour and taste Mr.

Horrocks' mild beer.

"Shall I write to your brother--or will you?" asked Lady Jane of her

husband, Sir Pitt.

"I will write, of course," Sir Pitt said, "and invite him to the

funeral: it will be but becoming."

"And--and--Mrs. Rawdon," said Lady Jane timidly.

"Jane!" said Lady Southdown, "how can you think of such a thing?"

"Mrs. Rawdon must of course be asked," said Sir Pitt, resolutely.

"Not whilst I am in the house!" said Lady Southdown.

"Your Ladyship will be pleased to recollect that I am the head of this

family," Sir Pitt replied. "If you please, Lady Jane, you will write a

letter to Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, requesting her presence upon this

melancholy occasion."

"Jane, I forbid you to put pen to paper!" cried the Countess.

"I believe I am the head of this family," Sir Pitt repeated; "and

however much I may regret any circumstance which may lead to your

Ladyship quitting this house, must, if you please, continue to govern

it as I see fit."

Lady Southdown rose up as magnificent as Mrs. Siddons in Lady Macbeth

and ordered that horses might be put to her carriage. If her son and

daughter turned her out of their house, she would hide her sorrows

somewhere in loneliness and pray for their conversion to better

thoughts.

"We don't turn you out of our house, Mamma," said the timid Lady Jane

imploringly.

"You invite such company to it as no Christian lady should meet, and I

will have my horses to-morrow morning."

"Have the goodness to write, Jane, under my dictation," said Sir Pitt,

rising and throwing himself into an attitude of command, like the

portrait of a Gentleman in the Exhibition, "and begin. 'Queen's

Crawley, September 14, 1822.--My dear brother--'"




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