She steadily refused all entreaty made that she would answer the Countess's letter, and at last threatened her aunt that if the request were further urged she would answer it,--telling Lady Midlothian that she had been very impertinent.
"I am becoming a very old woman, Alice," the poor lady said, piteously, "and I suppose I had better not interfere any further.
Whatever I have said I have always meant to be for your good." Then Alice got up, and kissing her aunt, tried to explain to her that she resented no interference from her, and felt grateful for all that she both said and did; but that she could not endure meddling from people whom she did not know, and who thought themselves entitled to meddle by their rank.
"And because they are cousins as well," said Lady Macleod, in a softly sad, apologetic voice.
Alice left Cheltenham about the middle of November on her road to Matching Priory.

She was to sleep in London one night, and go down to Matching in Yorkshire with her maid on the following day.

Her father undertook to meet her at the Great Western Station, and to take her on the following morning to the Great Northern.

He said nothing in his letter about dining with her, but when he met her, muttered something about an engagement, and taking her home graciously promised that he would breakfast with her on the following morning.
"I'm very glad you are going, Alice," he said when they were in the cab together.
"Why, papa ?" "Why ?--because I think it's the proper thing to do.

You know I've never said much to you about these people.