with important
people. After all, there was something to be said for that appeal to
the magistrate, with its consequence of scandal, ruin, to these people
who thought themselves so secure from him. He recovered his mood of
last night.

"Boy!"--an errand-lad was just passing--"whereabouts is the
Court-house?"

He was bidden take a turning within sight and go straight on for about
half a mile.

"And I will, too!" he said in his mind. "She shall suffer for it!"

He turned away and walked for some twenty yards. Then once more the
doubt occurred to him. He had better go to the bookseller's and make
sure of Mrs. Quarrier's identity. Turning to take the opposite
direction, he saw some one coming forth from the gates by which he had
just stood--a lady--and it might be----?

Agitation shook him from head to foot. Was not that Lilian's figure,
her walk? She was moving away from him; he must have a glimpse of her
face. Drawing carefully nearer, on the side opposite to
hers--carefully--fearfully--he at length saw her features, then fell
back. Yes, it was Lilian. Much disguised in that handsome
walking-costume, but beyond doubt Lilian. Still, as of old, she walked
with bowed head, modestly. Who could imagine what she concealed?

His face was moist with perspiration. Following, he could not take his
eyes off her. That lady was his wife. He had but to claim her, and all
her sham dignity fell to nothing. But he could not command her
obedience. He had no more power over her will than any stranger. She
might bid him do his worst--and so vanish with her chosen companion
utterly beyond his reach.

Again he thought of the Court-house. For it was too certain that the
sight of him would inspire her only with horror. Should he not hold her
up to infamy? If _he_ did not, another would; Marks was plainly to be
trusted; this day was the last of Mrs. Quarrier's grandeur.

And to remember that was to pause. Could he afford to throw away a
great opportunity for the sake of malicious satisfaction?

She walked on, and he followed, keeping thirty or forty paces behind
her. He saw at length that she was not going into the town. The fine
morning had perhaps invited her to a country walk. So much the better;
he would wait till they were in a part where observation was less to be
feared; then he would speak to her.

Lilian never looked back. It was indeed the bright sunshine that had
suggested a walk out to Pear-tree Cottage, where before noo