I will not endure this fresh insanity."

"I cannot afford it," says Mr. Henry.

"Afford?" she cried. "For shame! But I have money of my own."

"That is all mine, madam, by marriage," he snarled, and instantly left
the room.

My old lord threw up his hands to Heaven, and he and his daughter,
withdrawing to the chimney, gave me a broad hint to be gone. I found Mr.
Henry in his usual retreat, the steward's room, perched on the end of
the table, and plunging his penknife in it with a very ugly countenance.

"Mr. Henry," said I, "you do yourself too much injustice, and it is time
this should cease."

"O!" cries he, "nobody minds here. They think it only natural. I have
shameful proclivities. I am a niggardly dog," and he drove his knife up
to the hilt. "But I will show that fellow," he cried with an oath, "I
will show him which is the more generous."

"This is no generosity," said I; "this is only pride."

"Do you think I want morality?" he asked.

I thought he wanted help, and I should give it him, willy-nilly; and no
sooner was Mrs. Henry gone to her room than I presented myself at her
door and sought admittance.

She openly showed her wonder. "What do you want with me, Mr. Mackellar?"
said she.

"The Lord knows, madam," says I, "I have never troubled you before with
any freedoms; but this thing lies too hard upon my conscience, and it
will out. Is it possible that two people can be so blind as you and my
lord? and have lived all these years with a noble gentleman like Mr.
Henry, and understand so little of his nature?"

"What does this mean?" she cried.

"Do you not know where his money goes to? his--and yours--and the money
for the very wine he does not drink at table?" I went on. "To Paris--to
that man! Eight thousand pounds has he had of us in seven years, and my
patron fool enough to keep it secret!"

"Eight thousand pounds!" she repeated. "It is impossible; the estate is
not sufficient."

"God knows how we have sweated farthings to produce it," said I. "But
eight thousand and sixty is the sum, beside odd shillings. And if you
can think my patron miserly after that, this shall be my last
interference."

"You need say no more, Mr. Mackellar," said she. "You have done most
properly in what you too modestly call your interference. I am much to
blame; you must think me indeed a very unobservant wife" (looking upon
me with a strange smile), "but I shall put this right at once. The
Master was always of