nd
showed the curiosity of a mere man. "Has anybody else been aware of
this?" he said, still wishing to know whether he had cause for anger
against Silverbridge in the matter.

"Mrs. Finn is aware of it," answered Tregear.

"Mrs. Finn!" exclaimed the Duke, as though he had been stung by an
adder.

This was the woman whom he had prayed to remain awhile with his
daughter after his wife had been laid in her grave, in order that
there might be someone near whom he could trust! And this very woman
whom he had so trusted,--whom, in his early associations with her,
he had disliked and distrusted, but had taught himself both to
like and to trust because his wife had loved her,--this woman was
the she-Pandarus who had managed matters between Tregear and his
daughter! His wife had been too much subject to her influence. That
he had always known. And now, in this last act of her life, she
had allowed herself to be persuaded to give up her daughter by the
baneful wiles of this most pernicious woman. Such were the workings
of the Duke's mind when the young man told him that Mrs. Finn was
acquainted with the whole affair. As the reader is aware, nothing
could have been more unjust.

"I mentioned her name," said Tregear, "because I thought she had been
a friend of the family."

"That will do, sir. I have been greatly pained as well as surprised
by what I have heard. Of the real state of the case I can form no
opinion till I see my daughter. You, of course, will hold no further
intercourse with her." He paused as though for a promise, but Tregear
did not feel himself called upon to say a word in one direction or in
the other. "It will be my care that you shall not do so.
Good-morning, sir."

Tregear, who during the interview had been standing, then bowed,
turned upon his heel, and left the room.

The Duke seated himself, and, crossing his arms upon his chest, sat
for an hour looking up at the ceiling. Why was it that, for him, such
a world of misery had been prepared? What wrong had he done, of what
imprudence had he been guilty, that, at every turn of life, something
should occur so grievous as to make him think himself the most
wretched of men? No man had ever loved his wife more dearly than he
had done; and yet now, in that very excess of tenderness which her
death had occasioned, he was driven to accuse her of a great sin
against himself, in that she had kept from him her knowledge of this
affair;--for, when he came to t