. He told himself
that the battle for him was over, and he thought of poison for
himself. He thought of poison, and a pistol,--of the pistols he had
ever loaded at home, each with six shots, good for a life apiece. He
thought of an express train, rushing along at its full career, and of
the instant annihilation which it would produce. But if that was to
be the end of him, he would not go alone. No, indeed! why should he
go alone, leaving those pistols ready loaded in his desk? Among them
they had brought him to ruin and to death. Was he a man to pardon his
enemies when it was within his power to take them with him, down,
down, down--? What were the last words upon his impious lips, as with
bloodshot eyes, half drunk, and driven by the Fury, he took himself
off to the bed prepared for him, cursing aloud the poor red-haired
girl as he went, I may not utter here.

CHAPTER LVIII

The Pallisers at Breakfast

Gentle reader, do you remember Lady Monk's party, and how it
ended,--how it ended, at least as regards those special guests with
whom we are concerned? Mr Palliser went away early, Mrs Marsham
followed him to his house in Park Lane, caught him at home, and told
her tale. He returned to his wife, found her sitting with Burgo in
the dining-room, under the Argus eyes of the constant Bott, and bore
her away home. Burgo disappeared utterly from the scene, and Mr Bott,
complaining inwardly that virtue was too frequently allowed to be its
own reward, comforted himself with champagne, and then walked off to
his lodgings. Lady Monk, when Mr Palliser made his way into her room
up-stairs, seeking his wife's scarf,--which little incident, also,
the reader may perhaps remember,--saw that the game was up, and
thought with regret of the loss of her two hundred pounds. Such was
the ending of Lady Monk's party.

Lady Glencora, on her journey home in the carriage with her husband,
had openly suggested that Mrs Marsham had gone to Park Lane to tell
of her doings with Burgo, and had declared her resolution never again
to see either that lady or Mr Bott in her own house. This she said
with more of defiance in her tone than Mr Palliser had ever hitherto
heard. He was by nature less ready than her, and knowing his own
deficiency in that respect, abstained from all answer on the subject.
Indeed, during that drive home very few further words were spoken
between them. "I will breakfast with you to-morrow," he said to her,
as she pre