at I let him have his
way? The result is that I am doubly bound to tell you nothing, by the
most sacred promise that a man can give. My dear lady, I cordially side
with you in this matter; I long to relieve your anxieties. But what can
I do?"

He stopped, and waited--gravely waited--to hear my reply.

I had listened from beginning to end without interrupting him. The
extraordinary change in his manner, and in his way of expressing
himself, while he was speaking of Eustace, alarmed me as nothing had
alarmed me yet. How terrible (I thought to myself) must this untold
story be, if the mere act of referring to it makes light-hearted Major
Fitz-David speak seriously and sadly, never smiling, never paying me a
compliment, never even noticing the singing upstairs! My heart sank in
me as I drew that startling conclusion. For the first time since I had
entered the house I was at the end of my resources; I knew neither what
to say nor what to do next.

And yet I kept my seat. Never had the resolution to discover what my
husband was hiding from me been more firmly rooted in my mind than it
was at that moment! I cannot account for the extraordinary inconsistency
in my character which this confession implies. I can only describe the
facts as they really were.

The singing went on upstairs. Major Fitz-David still waited impenetrably
to hear what I had to say--to know what I resolved on doing next.

Before I had decided what to say or what to do, another domestic
incident happened. In plain words, another knocking announced a new
visitor at the house door. On this occasion there was no rustling of a
woman's dress in the hall. On this occasion only the old servant
entered the room, carrying a magnificent nosegay in his hand. "With Lady
Clarinda's kind regards. To remind Major Fitz-David of his appointment."
Another lady! This time a lady with a title. A great lady who sent
her flowers and her messages without condescending to concealment. The
Major--first apologizing to me--wrote a few lines of acknowledgment,
and sent them out to the messenger. When the door was closed again he
carefully selected one of the choicest flowers in the nosegay. "May I
ask," he said, presenting the flower to me with his best grace, "whether
you now understand the delicate position in which I am placed between
your husband and yourself?"

The little interruption caused by the appearance of the nosegay had
given a new impulse to my thoughts, and had th