t trial to me. I have done all I could to keep Kilian from throwing
himself away, but I might as well have argued with the winds."

"I don't care how much Kilian throws himself away," I said, impulsively.
"He deserves it for keeping around her all these years. But I do mind
that she is your sister, and that she will be mistress of the house
at R----."

There was an awful silence then. Heavens! what had I been thinking about
to have said that! I had precipitated the _denouement_, and I had not
meant to. I did not want to hear it that moment, if he were going to
marry Charlotte Benson, nor did I want to hear it, if he were saving the
old place for me. I felt as if I had given the blow that would bring the
whole structure down, and I waited for the crash in frightened silence.

In the meantime the business of the table went on. I ate half a chicken
croquette, and Susan placed the salad before Richard, and another plate.
He did not speak till he had put the salad on his plate; then he said,
without looking at me, in a voice a good deal lower than was usual
to him,

"She is not to be mistress of that house. They will live in town."

Then I felt cold and chilled to my very heart; it was well that he did
not expect me to speak, for I could not have commanded my voice enough
to have concealed my agitation. I knew very well from that moment that
he was going to marry Charlotte Benson. Something that was said a little
later was a confirmation.

I had recovered myself enough to talk about ordinary things, and to keep
strictly to them, too. Richard was talking of the great heat of the past
summer. I had said it had been unparalleled in France; had he not found
it very uncomfortable here in town?

"I have been out of town so much, I can hardly say how it has been
here," he answered. "I was all of August in the country; only coming to
the city twice."

My heart sank: that was just what they had said; he had been a great
deal at home this summer, and she had been there all the time.

The dinner was becoming terribly _ennuyant_, and I wished with all my
heart Throckmorton had been contented with just half the courses.
Richard did not seem to enjoy them, and I--I was so wretched I could
scarcely say a word, much less eat a morsel. It had been a great
mistake to invite him to take dinner; it was being too familiar, when he
had put me at such a distance all these years: I wished for Mrs.
Throckmorton with all my heart. Why had I