ke had come away from home resolved not to mention
it,--and she was minded to keep it in reserve till some seeming
catastrophe should justify a declaration of her purpose. But from
first to last she had been sad, and latterly she had been ill. When
asked as to her complaint she would simply say that she was not
happy. To go on with this through the Chinese cities could hardly be
good for either of them. She would not wake herself to any enthusiasm
in regard to scenery, costume, pictures, or even discomforts.
Wherever she was taken it was all barren to her.

As their plans stood at present, they were to return to England so
as to enable her to be at Custins by the middle of October. Had he
taught himself to hope that any good could be done by prolonged
travelling he would readily have thrown over Custins and Lord
Popplecourt. He could not bring himself to trust much to the
Popplecourt scheme. But the same contrivance had answered on that
former occasion. When he spoke to her about their plans, she
expressed herself quite ready to go back to England. When he
suggested those Chinese cities, her face became very long and she was
immediately attacked by paroxysms of headaches.

"I think I should take her to some place on the seashore in England,"
said Mrs. Finn.

"Custins is close to the sea," he replied. "It is Lord Cantrip's
place in Dorsetshire. It was partly settled that she was to go
there."

"I suppose she likes Lady Cantrip."

"Why should she not?"

"She has not said a word to me to the contrary. I only fear she would
feel that she was being sent there,--as to a convent."

"What ought I to do then?"

"How can I venture to answer that? What she would like best, I think,
would be to return to Matching with you, and to settle down in a
quiet way for the winter." The Duke shook his head. That would be
worse than travelling. She would still have headaches and still tell
him that she was unhappy. "Of course I do not know what your plans
are, and pray believe me that I should not obtrude my advice if you
did not ask me."

"I know it," he said. "I know how good you are and how reasonable. I
know how much you have to forgive."

"Oh, no."

"And, if I have not said so as I should have done, it has not been
from want of feeling. I do believe you did what you thought best when
Mary told you that story at Matching."

"Why should your Grace go back to that?"

"Only that I may acknowledge my indebtedness to you, an