hat of a brother and a sister; and each knew
that they two might not dwell under the same roof. It was necessary
to talk over these matters, and in doing so it was very hard not to
touch on forbidden subjects.

Caroline had made up her mind to live again with her aunt--had made
up her mind to do so, providing that her husband's power was not
sufficient to prevent it. Miss Baker would often tell her that the
law would compel her to return to her lord; that she would be forced
to be again the mistress of the house in Eaton Square, and again live
as the prosperous wife of the prosperous politician. To this Caroline
had answered but little; but that little had been in a manner that
had thoroughly frightened Miss Baker. Nothing, Lady Harcourt had
said, nothing should induce her to do so.

"But if you cannot help yourself, Caroline?"

"I will help myself. I will find a way to prevent, at any rate,
that--" So much she had said, but nothing further: and so much Miss
Baker had repeated to George Bertram, fearing the worst.

It was not till the day before the funeral that Caroline spoke to her
cousin on the subject.

"George," she said to him, "shall we be able to live here?--to keep
on this house?"

"You and Miss Baker, you mean?"

"Yes; aunt and I. We should be as quiet here as anywhere,--and I am
used to these people now."

"It must depend on the will. The house was his own property; but,
doubtless, Miss Baker could rent it."

"We should have money enough for that, I suppose."

"I should hope so. But we none of us know anything yet. All your
own money--the income, at least, coming from it--is in Sir Henry's
hands."

"I will never condescend to ask for that," she said. And then there
was a pause in their conversation.

"George," she continued, after a minute or two, "you will not let me
fall into his hands?"

He could not help remembering that his own mad anger had already
thrown her into the hands which she now dreaded so terribly. Oh, if
those two last years might but pass away as a dream, and leave him
free to clasp her to his bosom as his own! But the errors of past
years will not turn themselves to dreams. There is no more solid
stuff in this material world than they are. They never melt away, or
vanish into thin air.

"Not if it can be avoided," he replied.

"Ah! but it can be avoided; can it not? Say that you know it can. Do
not make me despair. It cannot be that he has a right to imprison
me."

"