on, thickly. "No iron about here."

"Oh yes," said Huttoft; "they've found a bed, and there's some talk of
trying to work it, bringing coal by canal, but I can't see as it will
answer."

Soon after this the conversation became general upon the future of the
iron, the company being divided, some declaring for riches to those who
took shares in the company, others prognosticating that the shareholders
would find the iron too hot to hold, and would burn their fingers in a
way not to be forgotten. But, at last, remembrances of frowning wives
sitting up for absent lords brought the hour into serious consideration,
and, after glasses round, the enthusiastic party insisted upon seeing
Mr Gurdon home, which they did to the lodge gates, parting from him
most affectionately, though it might have been better had they continued
their escort until he reached his normal bed, the one he chose, when
left to himself, being a bed of verbenas, where he was found, covered
with dew, at early morning, by Alexander McCray, one of the
under-gardeners, who did not fail to treasure up the circumstance
against the next time he might be snubbed.

Book 1, Chapter XI.

HUSBANDS AND WIVES.

The Gernons had returned to the Castle for some days before Philip
Norton came home, his wife anxiously scanning his countenance, to find
him apparently quite happy and untroubled of mind. She had something
she wished to say to him, but she shrank from her task, hardly knowing
how to commence; her difficulty, though, was ended by Norton himself,
who, as they were seated at tea, turned the conversation in the required
direction.

"So the Castle folks are back," he said, quietly.

"Yes; they arrived last Thursday," said Mrs Norton, uneasily.

"Busy times there'll be there, then, I expect," said Norton. "Do the
old place good."

Mrs Norton looked searchingly at him, but not a muscle of his
countenance was moved.

"Do you know, love, I've been thinking over their return," he said,
after a few moments' silence, "and I fancy that, perhaps, it would be
better if the intimacy between you and Lady Gernon were not resumed.
Time works wonders, we know, but I cannot think that there could ever be
the cordiality that one would wish to feel towards one's friends."

"Can you read my thoughts, dear?" said Mrs Norton, kneeling at his
feet, so as to rest her elbows on his knees, and gaze up in his face.

"Well, not all," he said, laughing. "A great many, though,