t your
wife."

"What is it that you wish me to do? I have written to her, and can
only wait for her answer."

"It may be that she feels a delicacy in writing to you on such a
subject; though I own--. However, to make a long story short, if you
like, I will write to her myself."

"I don't see that that would do any good. It would only give her
offence."

"Give her offence, Frederic, to receive a letter from her future
mother-in-law;--from me! Only think, Frederic, what you are saying."

"If she thought she was being bullied about this, she would turn
rusty at once."

"Turn rusty! What am I to think of a young lady who is prepared
to turn rusty,--at once, too, because she is cautioned by the
mother of the man she professes to love against an improper
acquaintance,--against an acquaintance so very improper?" Lady
Aylmer's eloquence should have been heard to be appreciated. It is
but tame to say that she raised her fat arms and fat hands, and
wagged her front,--her front that was the more formidable as it was
the old one, somewhat rough and dishevelled, which she was wont to
wear in the morning. The emphasis of her words should have been
heard, and the fitting solemnity of her action should have been seen.
"If there were any doubt," she continued to say, "but there is no
doubt. There are the damning proofs." There are certain words usually
confined to the vocabularies of men, which women such as Lady Aylmer
delight to use on special occasions, when strong circumstances demand
strong language. As she said this she put her hand below the table,
pressing it apparently against her own august person; but she was in
truth indicating the position of a certain valuable correspondence,
which was locked up in the drawer of her writing-table.

"You can write if you like it, of course; but I think you ought to
wait a few more days."

"Very well, Frederic; then I will wait. I will wait till Sunday. I do
not wish to take any step of which you do not approve. If you have
not heard by Sunday morning, then I will write to her--on Monday."

On the Saturday afternoon life was becoming inexpressibly
disagreeable to Captain Aylmer, and he began to meditate an escape
from the Park. In spite of the agreement between him and his mother,
which he understood to signify that nothing more was to be said as
to Clara's wickedness, at any rate till Sunday after post-hour, Lady
Aylmer had twice attacked him on the Saturday, and had expressed