'll be with them anon."

Griffith walked into the dining-room, and, somewhat to his surprise,
after what Ryder had said, found Mrs. Gaunt seated at the head of her
own table, and presiding like a radiant queen over a brilliant assembly.

He walked in, and made a low bow to his guests first: then he approached
to greet his wife more freely; but she drew back decidedly, and made him
a courtesy, the dignity and distance of which struck the whole company.

Sir George Neville, who was at the bottom of the table, proposed, with
his usual courtesy, to resign his place to Griffith. But Mrs. Gaunt
forbade the arrangement.

"No, Sir George," said she; "this is but an occasional visitor; you are
my constant friend."

If this had been said pleasantly, well and good; but the guests looked
in vain into their hostess's face for the smile that ought to have
accompanied so strange a speech and disarmed it.

"Rarities are the more welcome," said a lady, coming to the rescue; and
edged aside to make room for him.

"Madam," said Griffith, "I am in your debt for that explanation; but I
hope you will be no rarity here, for all that."

Supper proceeded; but the mirth languished. Somehow or other, the chill
fact that there was a grave quarrel between two at the table, and those
two man and wife, insinuated itself into the spirits of the guests.
There began to be lulls,--fatal lulls. And in one of these, some unlucky
voice was heard to murmur, "Such a meeting of man and wife I never
saw."

The hearers felt miserable at this personality, that fell upon the ear
of silence like a thunderbolt.

Griffith was ill-advised enough to notice the remark, though clearly not
intended for his ears. For one thing, his jealousy had actually revived
at the cool preference Kate had shown his old rival, Neville.

"Oh!" said he, bitterly, "a man is not always his wife's favorite."

"He does not always deserve to be," said Mrs. Gaunt, sternly.

When matters had gone that length, one idea seemed to occur pretty
simultaneously to all the well-bred guests; and that idea was, _Sauve
qui peut_.

Mrs. Gaunt took leave of them, one by one, and husband and wife were
left alone.

Mrs. Gaunt by this time was alarmed at the violence of her own passions,
and wished to avoid Griffith for that night at all events. So she cast
one terribly stern look upon him, and was about to retire in grim
silence. But he, indignant at the public affront she had put on him, an