Strickland, from whom Pauline
instinctively shrank, as being neither a gentleman nor a man of
principle. She looked upon him, too, as leading Wentworth astray; and
at any rate felt he was a person her husband had no right to bring
into her presence. She remonstrated with him more than once on the
subject, and he warmly defended his friend, and said her suspicions
were as unfounded as unwarrantable, and finally got in a passion, and
declared he would bring whom he chose to his own house. Pauline firmly
declared that he might do that, but that _she_ was equally mistress of
her own actions, and would _not_ receive Mr. Strickland as an
acquaintance. If he chose to ask him there, she would retire as he
entered.

Wentworth was very angry--quite violent in fact; but Pauline remained
unshaken--and he left the house in great displeasure.

He did not return until late. Pauline had given him up, and just
ordered dinner when he entered. As he came in he said loudly, "Walk
in, Strickland;" and there was something in the eye of both, as they
entered, that told Pauline that their quarrel had been communicated by
her husband to his friend, for Strickland's expression was both
foolish and insolent; and Wentworth evidently had been put up to brave
it out.

Pauline colored deeply, and rose to leave the room just as the
folding-doors of the dining-room were thrown open. Wentworth hastily
stepped forward, and taking her arm with a grasp, the firmness of
which he himself was unaware at the time, said,

"Take your place at the table."

The print of his fingers was left on her delicate wrist as he withdrew
his hand; but Pauline was too proud to subject herself to further
indignity in the presence of a stranger; and though she read triumph
in his insolent eye, she took her place silently at the head of the
table.

Wentworth drank freely of wine, for he was evidently laboring under
both embarrassment and excitement. The conversation was such as to
cause the blood to mount to Pauline's temples more than once, but she
firmly kept her seat until the cloth was removed and the servants
withdrew, and then she rose.

Wentworth said, "You are not going yet!" but there was a look in her
eye, as she turned it on him, that silenced all further remonstrance
on his part. A coarse laugh she heard as she closed the door, whether
of derision or triumph she could not tell; but she went to her own
room, and double-locked the doors, and paced the floor i