one isn't going
to pick a pocket. And then, the devil is so strong within me, that I
should like to dodge the policeman. I can fancy a woman being driven
to do wrong simply by a desire to show her policeman that she can be
too many for him."

"Glencora, you make me so wretched when you talk like that."

"Will you go with me, then, so that I may have a policeman of my own
choosing? He asked me if I would mind taking Mrs Marsham with me in
my carriage. So I up and spoke, very boldly, like the proud young
porter, and told him I would not; and when he asked why not, I said
that I preferred taking a friend of my own,--a young friend, I said,
and I then named you or my cousin, Lady Jane. I told him I should
bring one or the other."

"And was he angry?"

"No; he took it very quietly,--saying something, in his calm way,
about hoping that I should get over a prejudice against one of
his earliest and dearest friends. He twits at me because I don't
understand Parliament and the British Constitution, but I know more
of them than he does about a woman. You are quite sure you won't go,
then?" Alice hesitated a moment. "Do," said Lady Glencora; and there
was an amount of persuasion in her accent which should, I think, have
overcome her cousin's scruples.

"It is against the whole tenor of my life's way," she said, "And,
Glencora, I am not happy myself. I am not fit for parties. I
sometimes think that I shall never go into society again."

"That's nonsense, you know."

"I suppose it is, but I cannot go now. I would if I really thought--"

"Oh, very well," said Lady Glencora, interrupting her. "I suppose I
shall get through it. If he asks me to dance, I shall stand up with
him, just as though I had never seen him before." Then she remembered
the letter in her pocket,--remembered that at this moment she bore
about with her a written proposition from this man to go off with him
and leave her husband's house. She had intended to show it to Alice
on this occasion; but as Alice had refused her request, she was glad
that she had not done so. "You'll come to me the morning after," said
Lady Glencora, as she went. This Alice promised to do; and then she
was left alone.

Alice regretted,--regretted deeply that she had not consented to go
with her cousin. After all, of what importance had been her objection
when compared with the cause for which her presence had been desired?
Doubtless she would have been uncomfortable at Lady Monk's