ning; but he asked, with a little whine, for a five-pound note,
and got it. Burgo then told her about the travelling-bags and the
stockings, and they were quite pleasant and confidential. "Bid her
come in a stout travelling-dress," said Lady Monk. "She can wear some
lace or something over it, so that the servants won't observe it. I
will take no notice of it." Was there ever such an aunt?

After this, Burgo left his aunt, and went away to his club, in a
state of most happy excitement.

CHAPTER LXVII

The Last Kiss

Alice, on her return from Westmoreland, went direct to Park Lane,
whither Lady Glencora and Mr Palliser had also returned before her.
She was to remain with them in London one entire day, and on the
morning after that they were to start for Paris. She found Mr
Palliser in close attendance upon his wife. Not that there was
anything in his manner which at all implied that he was keeping watch
over her, or that he was more with her, or closer to her than a
loving husband might wish to be with a young wife; but the mode of
life was very different from that which Alice had seen at Matching
Priory!

On her arrival Mr Palliser himself received her in the hall, and took
her up to his wife before she had taken off her travelling hat. "We
are so much obliged to you, Miss Vavasor," he said. "I feel it quite
as deeply as Glencora."

"Oh, no," she said; "it is I that am under obligation to you for
taking me."

He merely smiled, and shook his head, and then took her up-stairs.
On the stairs he said one other word to her: "You must forgive me if
I was cross to you that night she went out among the ruins." Alice
muttered something,--some little fib of courtesy as to the matter
having been forgotten, or never borne in mind; and then they went on
to Lady Glencora's room. It seemed to Alice that he was not so big
or so much to be dreaded as when she had seen him at Matching. His
descent from an expectant, or more than an expectant, Chancellor of
the Exchequer, down to a simple, attentive husband, seemed to affect
his gait, his voice, and all his demeanour. When he received Alice at
the Priory he certainly loomed before her as something great, whereas
now his greatness seemed to have fallen from him. We must own that
this was hard upon him, seeing that the deed by which he had divested
himself of his greatness had been so pure and good!

"Dear Alice, this is so good of you! I am all in the midst of
packing, a