s tone. "Really,"--with slow contempt,--"I can hardly
congratulate you on your _tastes_! You, who might have chosen your
wife almost anywhere, can find nothing to suit you but an obscure
governess."

"I don't think there is anything particularly obscure about Georgie,"
replies Dorian, with admirable composure, though he flushes hotly.
"Have you ever seen her? No? Then, of course, you are not in a
position to judge of either her merits or demerits. I shall thank you,
therefore,"--surveying his uncle rather insolently, from head to
heel,--"to be silent on the subject."

After a slight pause, he turns again to Sartoris, and, forcing him to
meet his gaze, says haughtily,--

"May we hope you will be present at our wedding, my lord?"

"I thank you, no. I fear not," returns the older man, quite as
haughtily. "I hope to be many miles from here before the end of next
week."

Dorian smiles unpleasantly.

"You will at least call upon Miss Broughton before leaving the
neighborhood?" he says, raising his brows.

At this Sartoris turns upon him fiercely, stung by the apparent
unconcern of his manner.

"Why should I call?" he says, his voice full of indignant anger. "Is
it to congratulate her on her coming union with you? I tell you, were
I to do so, the face of another woman would rise before me and freeze
the false words upon my lips. To you, Dorian, in my old age, all my
heart went out. My hopes, my affections, my ambitions, began and ended
with you. And what a reward has been mine! Yours has been the hand to
drag our name down to a level with the dust. Disgrace follows hard
upon your footsteps. Were I to go, as you desire, to this innocent
girl, do you imagine I could speak fair words to her? I tell you, no!
I should rather feel it my duty to warn her against entering a house
so dishonored as yours. I should----"

"Pshaw!" says Branscombe, checking him with an impatient gesture.
"Don't let us introduce tragedy into this very commonplace affair.
Pray don't trouble yourself to go and see her at all. In your present
mood, I rather think you would frighten her to death. I am sorry I
intruded my private matters upon you: but Clarissa quite made a point
of my coming to Hythe to-night for that purpose, and, as you know, she
is a difficult person to refuse. I'm sure I beg your pardon for having
so unwarrantably bored you."

"Clarissa, like a great many other charming people, is at times prone
to give very unseasonable advice