MABEL'S PROGRESS.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "AUNT MARGARET'S TROUBLE"

BOOK I.

CHAPTER VII. A FAMILY DINNER AT BRAMLEY
MANOR.

MRS. CHARLEWOOD was a member of the
Reverend Decimus Fluke's congregation. So
was Miss Augusta. The latter, indeed, was
very much given to professions of piety of
a somewhat melancholy and soul-depressing
character. Miss Augusta, though a beauty
and an heiress, eschewed the worldly
amusements which might have appeared most
calculated to tempt a young lady of her age and
attractions. She went to balls occasionally,
but she never waltzed. She sometimes attended
the performance of an oratorio, but she seldom
went to a secular concert. And as for the play!—
Miss Augusta would not have entered the doors
of a theatre on any pretext or persuasion
whatsoever. Stay, I must record one exception to
this rule. When the Misses Charlewood once
passed a season in London, Augusta, radiant
in a rich and elegant toilette, had been seen
several times in a box at the Italian Opera.
But then, it was the Italian Opera. And the
élite of London society were there to be seen—
and to see. And it cost a great deal of money.
So Miss Augusta had been to the Italian Opera.

Her sister Penelope, independent in this
matter as in most others, declined to attend the
Reverend Mr. Fluke's church; but was in the
habit of going to a chapel in the neighbourhood
of Bramley Manor, where very high-church
services were performed, with much elaboration,
and where the sermon never exceeded
fifteen minutes in length. The chapel was
a bran-new construction, of a very florid
style of architecture, with cast-iron crosses
stuck on each of its many pinnacles, and bits of
coloured glass inserted in all the windows.
Penelope complained that Mr. Fluke's sermons
made her bilious. "Sitting still to be
bullied three times every Sunday disagrees with
my constitution," said she. "When there's
any bullying going, I like to do my share of it,"
she added, frankly.

However, though the seven Misses Fluke
groaned in concert over the Puseyism—in their
mouths the word was almost synonymous with
perdition—of the eldest Miss Charlewood, they
were very willing to go to Bramley Manor
whenever they had a chance of doing so. And
the Charlewood family were, to use Mr. Fluke's
own phrase, "some of the brightest jewels in
his congregation." Thus, it came to pass, that
from the Misses Fluke the Charlewoods heard
of Mabel's visit to Corda Trescott. Clement
had learned the fact from Corda herself, but
had said nothing about it, feeling possibly some
little pique at Mabel's disregard of his advice,
and feeling also, in a half unconscious way, very
reluctant to canvas the subject at home. But
his sisters were not so reticent.

One evening, when the whole family was
assembled round the dinner-table, and after the
servants had left the room, Augusta opened fire
after this fashion:

"What a queer girl Mabel Earnshaw is!"

Her father looked up from his walnuts.
He was a very handsome old man; it was
from him that Augusta inherited her beauty.
He was dressed in a somewhat peculiar
fashion, his attire being, in fact, a close
imitation of the costume of a well-known
nobleman in the neighbouring county, to whom he
bore a strong resemblance. Mr. Charlewood
had occasionally been mistaken for this nobleman
by strangers; and had once been addressed
by a fellow-traveller in a railway carriage as
"my lord"—a circumstance which, strange to
say, afforded him very great gratification.

"Queer? Mabel Earnshaw queer?" said he,
addressing his daughter Augusta. "Well; hers
is a very pleasant kind of queerness, at all events.
I thought she was your dearest friend."

"Oh," exclaimed Walter, a good-looking,
light-haired lad, who was giving himself mighty
airs of connoisseurship over his port wine,
"don't you know, sir, that Miss Earnshaw has
been thanked and dismissed the service? Jane
Fluke is promoted to the post of dearest friend,
vice Mabel Earnshaw, superseded."

"I'm sorry, dear Watty," retorted Augusta,
with placid sweetness, "that Jane Fluke is not
pretty. For I know you can't be expected to
like her merely because she's good."

Walter laughed, and held his peace.

"Well, but what is Mabel's special
queerness?" asked Mr. Charlewood.

"Oh, I don't know, papa," replied Augusta;
"but she is queer. I think she's—she's strong
minded."