ask her cousin's sympathy--an act which only widened the breach daily
growing between husband and wife. And this, too, at a time when Lady
Gernon's heart had begun to leap with new hopes--hopes of that happiness
which she had envied in others; when the world gave promise to her of a
happier future, with fresh cares and interests; so that, even now that
this hopeful state lent brightness to her eye, and colour to her cheek,
she had new cause for sorrow in her husband's coldness.

Sir Murray Gernon persuaded himself that his suspicions merely wanted
confirmation, and, waiting that confirmation, he shut himself up, as it
were, within his cold, proud hauteur, and waited--waited, for he would
not stir an inch to find proof of his suspicions; it should come to him,
and blankly stare him in the face before he would take step or speak
word; and so the months glided on at the Castle, company coming and
going, parties following one another rapidly, and Sir Murray Gernon a
very pattern of courtly politeness to all. His greatest intimates
congratulated him upon his domestic happiness, and he smiled his thanks,
and then subsided again into his saturnine gloom, waiting--waiting for
what he told himself would some day come.

There was to be a grand party at the Castle, at Sir Murray's wish, on
the anniversary of the marriage. The idea had proceeded from Mrs
Elstree, during a visit to the Rectory, and Sir Murray had immediately
taken it up, though, upon receiving a meaning glance from the Rector,
who had seen a shadow cross his daughter's brow, the proposer would
gladly have recalled her words.

Great preparations were in progress; but after making his decree that
there should be a grand affair, one that should do honour to his name,
Sir Murray Gernon took no further interest in the matter.

He was seated, as was his wont, one morning in his library, turning over
his letters, and thoughtfully brooding over his wrongs. It was cruel,
he said, that he, rich, powerful, and well endowed by nature, should
suffer in this way. But he could wait; and he turned to think of what
he should do to drive away the ennui which oppressed him. Suddenly a
thought came, and ringing sharply, the summons was answered by a
footman.

"Send Gurdon here," said the baronet; and then, adopting his most
magisterial air, he sat waiting the coming of the butler, upon whom the
thunders of his wrath were about to descend.

Mr Gurdon, rather red of nose an