rather restless about the non-appearance of her coach. At last
a lacquey arrived on foot. She angrily inquired why a carriage had not
been sent for her?

"Master didn't give orders, my lady," answered the man, somewhat rudely.

Lady Caroline turned pale--with anger or fear--perhaps both.

"You have not properly answered your mistress's question," said Mr.
Halifax.

"Master says, sir--begging my lady's pardon for repeating it--but he
says, 'My lady went out against his will, and she may come home when
and how she likes.'"

"My lady" burst out laughing, and laughed violently and long.

"Tell him I will. Be sure you tell him I will. It is the last and the
easiest obedience."

John sent the lacquey out of the room; and Ursula said something about
"not speaking thus before a servant."

"Before a servant! Why, my dear, we furnish entertainment for our
whole establishment, my husband and I. We are at the Mythe what the
Prince Regent and the Princess of Wales are to the country at large. We
divide our people between us; I fascinate--he bribes. Ha! ha! Well
done, Richard Brithwood! I may come home 'when and how I like!' Truly,
I'll use that kind permission."

Her eyes glittered with an evil fire: her cheeks were hot and red.

"Mrs. Halifax, I shall be thrown on your hospitality for an hour or two
longer. Could you send a letter for me?"

"To your husband? Certainly."

"My husband?--Never!--Yes, to MY HUSBAND." The first part of the
sentence was full of fierce contempt; the latter, smothered, and slowly
desperate. "Tell me, Ursula, what constitutes a man one's husband?
Brutality, tyranny--the tyranny which the law sanctions? Or kindness,
sympathy, devotion, everything that makes life beautiful--everything
that constitutes happiness and--"

"Sin."

The word in her ear was so low, that she started as if conscience only
had uttered it--conscience, to whom only her intents were known.

John came forward, speaking gravely, but not unkindly.

"Lady Caroline, I am deeply grieved that this should have happened in
my house, and through your visiting us against your husband's will."

"His will!"

"Pardon me; but I think a wife is bound to the very last to obey in all
things, not absolutely wrong, her husband's will. I am glad you
thought of writing to Mr. Brithwood."

She shook her head, in mocking denial.

"May I ask, then--since I am to have the honour of sending it--to whom
is this letter?"

"To