Charlotte’s reply was an inarticulate murmur. The two cousins remained silent, Charlotte as usual bolt upright, her thin hands clutched on the arms of her old-fashioned rush-bottomed seat, Delia somewhat heavily sunk into the depths of a high-backed armchair. The two had exchanged their last remarks on the preparations for the morrow; nothing more remained to be said as to the number of guests, the brewing of the punch, the arrangements for the robing of the clergy, and the disposal of the presents in the best spare-room. Only one subject had not yet been touched upon, and Delia, as she watched{174} her cousin’s profile grimly cut upon the melting twilight, waited for Charlotte to speak. But Charlotte remained silent. {174} “I have been thinking,” Delia at length began, a slight tremor in her voice, “that I ought presently—” She fancied she saw Charlotte’s hands tighten on the knobs of the chair-arms. “You ought presently—?” “Well, before Tina goes to bed, perhaps go up for a few minutes—” Charlotte remained silent, visibly resolved on making no effort to assist her. “Tomorrow,” Delia continued, “we shall be in such a rush from the earliest moment that I don’t see how, in the midst of all the interruptions and excitement, I can possibly—” “Possibly?” Charlotte monotonously echoed. Delia felt her blush deepening through{175} the dusk. “Well, I suppose you agree with me, don’t you, that a word ought to be said to the child as to the new duties and responsibilities that—well—what is usual, in fact, at such a time?” she falteringly ended. {175} “Yes, I have thought of that,” Charlotte answered. She said no more, but Delia divined in her tone the stirring of that obscure opposition which, at the crucial moments of Tina’s life, seemed automatically to declare itself. She could not understand why Charlotte should, at such times, grow so enigmatic and inaccessible, and in the present case she saw no reason why this change of mood should interfere with what she deemed to be her own duty. Tina must long for her guiding hand