162
WYLDER'S HAJVD.
Neither had old Lady Chelford, although she harangued
her son upon it as volubly and fiercely as if he had been
Mark Wylder in person, whenever he and she were
tete-d-tSte. She was extremely provoked, too, at Dor-
cas's evident repose under this astounding treatment, and
was enigmatically sarcastic upon her when they sat together
in the drawing-room.
This evening, in the drawing-room, there were two
very pretty ormolu caskets upon the little marble table.
-- So, so, something new, and very elegant and pretty,"
said the old lady holding her head high, and looking as if
she were disposed to be propitiated. "I think I can risk a
conjecture. Mr. Wylder is about to reappear, and has
despatched these heralds of approach, no doubt, suitably
freighted, to plead for his re-acceptance into favor. You
have heard, then, from Mr. Wylder, my dear Dorcas?"
"No, Lady Chelford," said the young lady, with a
grave serenity, turning her head leisurely towards her.
"No? Oh, then where is my son? He, perhaps,
can explain; and pray, my dear, what are these?"
"These caskets contain the jewels which Mr. Wylder
gave me about six weeks since. I had intended restoring
them to him; but as his return is delayed, I mean to
place them in Chelford's hands; because I have made up
my mind, a week ago, to put an end to this odious engage-
ment. It is all over."
Lady Chelford stared at the audacious young lady with
a look of incensed amazement for some seconds, unable to
speak.
"Upon my word, young lady! vastly fine and inde-
pendent! You chasser Mr. Wylder without one mo-
ment's notice, and without deigning to consult me, or any
other person capable of advising you. You are about to
commit as gross and indelicate a breach of faith as I recol-