Grafton Street. He found Lord Hartledon knitting his brow over a letter.

"Maude is growing vexed in earnest," he began, looking up at Mr. Carr.
"She insists upon knowing the reason that I do not go home to her."

"I don't wonder at it. You ought to do one of two things: go, or--"

"Or what, Carr?"

"You know. Never go home again."

"I wish I was out of the world!" cried the unhappy man.

CHAPTER XXV.

AT HARTLEDON.

"Hartledon,

"I wonder what you _think_ of yourself, Galloping about _Rotten Row_
with women when your wife's _dying_. Of _course_ it's not your fault
that reports of your goings-on _reach_ her here oh dear no. You are a
moddel husband you are, sending her down here _out of the way_ that you
may take your pleasure. Why did you _marry her_, nobody wanted you to
she sits and _mopes_ and _weeps_ and she's going into the same way that
her father _went_, you'll be glad no doubt to hear it it's what you're
_aiming_ at, once she is in _Calne churchyard_ the _field_ will be open
for your Anne Ashton. I can tell you that if you've a spark of _proper
feeling_ you'll come _down_ for its killing her,

"Your wicked mother,

"C. Kirton."

Lord Hartledon turned this letter about in his hand. He scarcely noticed
the mistake at the conclusion: the dowager had doubtless intended to
imply that _he_ was wicked, and the slip of the pen in her temper went
for nothing.

Galloping about Rotten Row with women!

Hartledon sent his thoughts back, endeavouring to recollect what could
have given rise to this charge. One morning, after a sleepless night,
when he had tossed and turned on his uneasy bed, and risen unrefreshed,
he hired a horse, for he had none in town, and went for a long ride.
Coming back he turned into Rotten Row. He could not tell why he did so,
for such places, affected by the gay, empty-headed votaries of fashion,
were little consonant to his present state. He was barely in it when a
lady's horse took fright: she was riding alone, with a groom following;
Lord Hartledon gave her his assistance, led her horse until the animal
was calm, and rode side by side with her to the end of the Row. He knew
not who she was; scarcely noticed whether she was young or old; and had
not given a remembrance to it since.

When your wife's dying! Accustomed to the strong expressions of the
countess-dowager, he passed that over. But, "going the same way that her
father went;" he paused