Thus spake the chivalrous Sir Hugo, in his disgust at the young and beautiful widow of a Mallinger Grandcourt being left with only two thousand a year and a house in a coal-mining district. To the rector that income naturally appeared less shabby and less accompanied with mortifying privations; but in this conversation he had devoured a much keener sense than the baronet's of the humiliation cast over his niece, and also over her nearest friends, by the conspicuous publishing of her husband's relation to Mrs. Glasher. And like all men who are good husbands and fathers, he felt the humiliation through the minds of the women who would be chiefly affected by it; so that the annoyance of first hearing the facts was far slighter than what he felt in communicating them to Mrs. Davilow, and in anticipating Gwendolen's feeling whenever her mother saw fit to tell her of them. For the good rector had an innocent conviction that his niece was unaware of Mrs. Glasher's existence, arguing with masculine soundness from what maidens and wives were likely to know, do, and suffer, and having had a most imperfect observation of the particular maiden and wife in question. Not so Gwendolen's mother, who now thought that she saw an explanation of much that had been enigmatic in her child's conduct and words before and after her engagement, concluding that in some inconceivable way Gwendolen had been informed of this left-handed marriage and the existence of the children. She trusted to opportunities that would arise in moments of affectionate confidence before and during their journey to England, when she might gradually learn how far the actual state of things was clear to Gwendolen, and prepare her for anything that might be a disappointment. But she was spared from devices on the subject.
"I hope you don't expect that I am going to be rich and grand, mamma," said Gwendolen, not long after the rector's communication; "perhaps I shall have nothing at all."
She was dressed, and had been sitting long in quiet meditation. Mrs. Davilow was startled, but said, after a moment's reflection,

Thus spake the chivalrous Sir Hugo, in his disgust at the young and beautiful widow of a Mallinger Grandcourt being left with only two thousand a year and a house in a coal-mining district. To the rector that income naturally appeared less shabby; but he had a keener sense of the humiliation cast over his niece, and also over her nearest friends, by the publishing of her husband's relation to Mrs. Glasher. He felt the unpleasantness of communicating the facts to Mrs. Davilow, who had to tell Gwendolen.
For the good rector had an innocent conviction that his niece was unaware of Mrs. Glasher's existence. Not so Gwendolen's mother, who now thought that she saw an explanation of much that had been enigmatic in her child's conduct, concluding that in some way Gwendolen had been informed of this left-handed marriage and the existence of the children. She trusted that Gwendolen might confide in her during their journey to England, so that she could prepare her for any disappointment. But she was spared from devices on the subject.
"I hope you don't expect that I am going to be rich and grand, mamma," said Gwendolen; "perhaps I shall have nothing."
Mrs. Davilow was startled, but said, after a moment's reflection-
