Henrietta could have bitten her tongue for laying her open to the
censure implied in his muteness. Janey perverted her.

Women were an illegible manuscript, and ladies a closed book of the
binding, to this raw philosopher, or he would not so coldly have judged
the young wife, anxious on her husband's account, that they might escape
another scorching. He carried away his impression.

Livia listened to a remark on his want of manners.

'Russett puts it to the credit of his honesty,' she said. 'Honesty is
everything with us at present. The man has made his honesty an excellent
speculation. He puts a piece on zero and the bank hands him a sackful.
We may think we have won him to serve us, up comes his honesty. That's
how we have Lady Arpington mixed in it--too long a tale. But be guided
by me; condescend a little.'

'My dear! my whole mind is upon that unhappy girl. It would break
Chillon's heart.'

Livia pished. 'There are letters we read before we crack the seal. She
is out of that ditch, and it suits Russett that she should be. He's
not often so patient. A woman foot to foot against his will--I see him
throwing high stakes. Tyrants are brutal; and really she provokes him
enough. You needn't be alarmed about the treatment she 'll meet. He
won't let her beat him, be sure.'

Neither Livia nor Gower wondered at the clearing of the mystery, before
it went to swell the scandal. A young nobleman of ready power, quick
temper, few scruples, and a taxed forbearance, was not likely to stand
thwarted and goaded-and by a woman. Lord Fleetwood acted his part,
inscrutable as the blank of a locked door. He could not conceal that he
was behind the door.

CHAPTER XXV. THE PHILOSOPHER MAN OF ACTION

Gower's bedroom window looked over the shrubs of the square, and as his
form of revolt from a city life was to be up and out with the sparrows
in the early flutter of morning, for a stretch of the legs where grass
was green and trees were not enclosed, he rarely saw a figure below
when he stood dressing. Now there appeared a petticoated one stationary
against the rails, with her face lifted. She fronted the house, and
while he speculated abstractedly, recognition rushed on him. He was down
and across the roadway at leaps.

'It's Madge here!'

The girl panted for her voice.

'Mr. Woodseer, I'm glad; I thought I should have to wait hours. She's
safe.'

'Where?'

'Will you come, sir?'

'Step ahead.'

Madge set forth to