ry, and the wife be laden
with many ordinary cares, the routine of life may run on without
storms;--but for such a one, if he be without work, the management
of a wife will be a task full of peril. The lesson may be learned at
last; he may after years come to perceive how much and how little of
guidance the partner of his life requires at his hands; and he may be
taught how that guidance should be given;--but in the learning of the
lesson there will be sorrow and gnashing of teeth. It was so now with
this man. He loved his wife. To a certain extent he still trusted
her. He did not believe that she would be faithless to him after the
fashion of women who are faithless altogether. But he was jealous of
authority, fearful of slights, self-conscious, afraid of the world,
and utterly ignorant of the nature of a woman's mind.

He carried the letter with him in his pocket throughout the next
morning, and in the course of the day he called upon Lady Milborough.
Though he was obstinately bent on acting in accordance with his own
views, yet he was morbidly desirous of discussing the grievousness of
his position with his friends. He went to Lady Milborough, asking for
her advice, but desirous simply of being encouraged by her to do that
which he was resolved to do on his own judgment.

"Down,--after her,--to Nuncombe Putney!" said Lady Milborough,
holding up both her hands.

"Yes; he has been there. And she has been weak enough to see him."

"My dear Louis, take her to Naples at once,--at once."

"It is too late for that now, Lady Milborough."

"Too late! Oh, no. She has been foolish, indiscreet,
disobedient,--what you will of that kind. But, Louis, don't send her
away; don't send your young wife away from you. Those whom God has
joined together, let no man put asunder."

"I cannot consent to live with a wife with whom neither my wishes
nor my word have the slightest effect. I may believe of her what I
please, but, think what the world will believe! I cannot disgrace
myself by living with a woman who persists in holding intercourse
with a man whom the world speaks of as her lover."

"Take her to Naples," said Lady Milborough, with all the energy of
which she was capable.

"I can take her nowhere, nor will I see her, till she has given proof
that her whole conduct towards me has been altered. I have written a
letter to her, and I have brought it. Will you excuse me if I ask you
to take the trouble to read it?"

Then he