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 The question was so sudden and unexpected that Clara gave quite a jump in her chair. “I—I—I hardly ever have thought of your nephew Charles."

"No? Oh, you must think him well over, for I want to speak to you about him.“

“To me? But why?"

“It seemed to me most delicate. You see, Clara, the matter stands in this way. It is quite possible that I may soon find myself in a completely new sphere of life, which will involve fresh duties and make it impossible for me to keep up a household which Charles can share.”

Clara stared. Did this mean that she was about to marry again? What else could it point to?

"Therefore Charles must have a household of his own. That is obvious. Now, I don’t approve of bachelor establishments. Do you?"

“Really, Mrs. Westmacott, I have never thought of the matter.”

"Oh, you little sly puss! Was there ever a girl who never thought of the matter? I think that a young man of six-and-twenty ought to be married.”

Clara felt very uncomfortable. The awful thought had come upon her that this ambassadress had come to her aa a proxy with a proposal of marriage. But how could that be?