if she had uttered a hearty affirmative,
"I will put some more coals on the fire, and we shall be as snug as
possible. It makes me wildly happy to see you at my fireside, and to
know that you are my own wife."

"I wonder how you can look me in the face and say so," she cried.

"I should wonder at myself if I could look at your face and say anything
else. Oatmeal is a capital restorative; all your energy is coming back.
There, that will make a magnificent blaze presently."

"I never thought you deceitful, Sidney, whatever other faults you might
have had."

"Precisely, my love. I understand your feelings. Murder, burglary,
intemperance, or the minor vices you could have borne; but deceit you
cannot abide."

"I will go away," she said despairingly, with a fresh burst of tears. "I
will not be laughed at and betrayed. I will go barefooted." She rose and
attempted to reach the door; but he intercepted her and said:

"My love, there is something serious the matter. What is it? Don't be
angry with me."

He brought her back to the chair. She took Agatha's letter from the
pocket of her fur cloak, and handed it to him with a faint attempt to be
tragic.

"Read that," she said. "And never speak to me again. All is over between
us."

He took it curiously, and turned it to look at the signature. "Aha!" he
said, "my golden idol has been making mischief, has she?"

"There!" exclaimed Henrietta. "You have said it to my face! You have
convicted yourself out of your own mouth!"

"Wait a moment, my dear. I have not read the letter yet."

He rose and walked to and fro through the room, reading. She watched
him, angrily confident that she should presently see him change
countenance. Suddenly he drooped as if his spine had partly given way;
and in this ungraceful attitude he read the remainder of the letter.
When he had finished he threw it on the table, thrust his hands deep
into his pockets, and roared with laughter, huddling himself together as
if he could concentrate the joke by collecting himself into the smallest
possible compass. Henrietta, speechless with indignation, could only
look her feelings. At last he came and sat down beside her.

"And so," he said, "on receiving this you rushed out in the cold and
came all the way to Lyvern. Now, it seems to me that you must either
love me very much--"

"I don't. I hate you."

"Or else love yourself very much."

"Oh!" And she wept afresh. "You are a selfish brute, and you