now feels a
sudden light break in upon her. She rises to her feet, and comes a
little forward, and, for the first time since his entrance, turns to
confront her husband.

"Let me tell you," she says, silencing Lord Sartoris by a quick motion
of the hand. "On Monday I told your uncle how--how I hated being
indebted to you for everything I may require. And he has thought of
this plan, out of his great kindness," turning eyes dark with tears
upon Lord Sartoris,--"to render me more independent. I thank you," she
says, going up to Sartoris and slipping her icy cold little hands into
his, "but it is far--far too much."

"So you have been regaling Lord Sartoris (an utter stranger to you)
with a history of all our private griefs and woes!" says Dorian,
slowly, utter contempt in his tone and an ominous light in his eyes.

"You wrong her, Dorian," says his uncle, gently. "It is not as you
represent it. It was by the merest chance I discovered your wife would
feel happier if more her own mistress."

"And by what right, may I inquire, do you seek to come between my wife
and me?" says Dorian, white with anger, standing, tall and strong,
with his arms folded and his eyes fixed upon his uncle. "Is it not my
part to support and keep her? Whose duty is it, if not mine? I wish
to know why you, of all men, have dared to interfere."

"I have not come between you: I seek no such ungracious part," replies
Sartoris, with quiet dignity. "I am only doing now what I should have
done on her marriage morning had--had things been different."

"It seems to me that I am brought up here as a criminal before my
judge and accuser," says Branscombe, very bitterly. "Let me at least
have the small satisfaction of knowing of what it is I am
accused,--wherein lies my crime. Speak," he says, turning suddenly to
his wife.

She is awed more than she cares to confess by his manner, which is
different from anything she has ever seen in him before. The
kind-hearted, easy-going Dorian is gone, leaving a stern, passionate,
disappointed man in his place.

"Have I ill-used you?" he goes on, vehemently. "Have I spoken harsh
words to you, or thwarted you in any way? Ever since the first hour
that saw you my wife have I refused to grant your lightest wish?
Speak, and let us hear the truth of this matter. I am a bad husband,
you say,--so infamous that it is impossible for you to receive even
the common necessaries of life at my hands! How have I failed in my
d