no one but Charles Penrhyn; we will wait any time that you may think proper, if."
"You may wait for ever," interrupted Lady Anne. "I will shut you up on bread and water, rather than that you should marry him. I am sure never had any body such wicked and undutiful children."
This was too much. Louisa burst into tears, and left the room. For the next week her life was wretched; Lady Anne was sufficiently impressed with the propriety of marrying only for money or title, to have been angry enough by herself; but she was stimulated by Lady Penrhyn, who could not forgive her brother—that he should be in the right, while she was in the wrong—a very common, yet a very great grievance in this world.
"Louisa will be worried to death, unless you stand her friend," said Mr. Penrhyn to Mrs. Palmer, with whom he had been talking over Lady Anne's vexatious and continued opposition; "she is looking almost as pale and ill as poor Mary."
Those who have all their lives been accustomed to a cheerful and happy home, can scarcely understand the extent to which domestic tyranny is sometimes carried. But for her sister's affection, Louisa's life would have been unbearable. To hear Lady Anne's expressions, a stranger would have supposed that her daughter had committed some disgraceful act, whose very mention ought to be reprobated. To these reproaches Lady Penrhyn added her sneers, and Lord
