hat lawyer can work well if his mind be encumbered by deep
troubles of his own?

He had told George Bertram that he would go down to Hadley and claim
his wife if he did not receive a favourable message from his wife's
grandfather; and he now determined to take some such step. He felt
himself driven to do something; to bring about some arrangement; to
make some use of the few remaining grains of sand which were still
to run through the glass that was measuring out the lees of life for
that old man.

So thinking, but not quite resolved as to what he would do when he
reached the house, he started for Hadley. He knew that George was
still there, that his wife was there, and that Mr. Bertram was there;
and he trusted that he should not fail at any rate in seeing them.
He was not by nature a timid man, and had certainly not become so by
education; but, nevertheless, his heart did not beat quite equably
within his bosom when he knocked at the rich man's door.

Of course he was well known to the servant. At first he asked after
Mr. Bertram, and was told that he was much the same--going very fast;
the maid did not think that Sir Henry could see him. The poor girl,
knowing that the gentleman before her was not a welcome visitor,
stood in the doorway, as though to guard the ladies who were in the
drawing-room.

"Who is here now?" said Sir Henry. "Who is staying here?"

"Mr. George," said the girl, thinking that she would be safest in
mentioning his name, "and Miss Baker, sir."

"Lady Harcourt is here, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir; her ladyship is in the drawing-room," and she shook in her
shoes before him as she made the announcement.

For a moment Sir Henry was inclined to force his way by the trembling
young woman, and appear before the ladies. But then, what would he
get by it? Angry as he was with all the Hadley people, he was still
able to ask himself that question. Supposing that he were there,
standing before his wife; supposing even that he were able to bring
her to his feet by a glance, how much richer would that make him?
What bills would that pay? He had loved his wife once with a sort
of love; but that day was gone. When she had been at such pains to
express her contempt for him, all tenderness had deserted him. It
might be wise to make use of her--not to molest her, as long as her
grandfather lived. When the old miser should have gone, it would be
time for him to have his revenge. In the meantime, he could gain
n