eir bounty, they know very well that
they will not lose by it."

She mentioned Lalor Maitland's name, and told him the history of the
early attacks on the house of Marnhoul. Louis answered, "He has
explained all that. It was done to save me from these people who were
already besetting me, in order to rob me."

When she mentioned all that I had done for him, he put on an air of
frigid detachment.

"You are right, no doubt, to stand up for your husband," he said; "but,
then, I have not the same reasons. I can judge for myself."

Then she went on to show that there was no motive for the Lyons of
Heathknowes showing them any interested kindness. As for me, she had
only brought me herself and her love--no money, nor would she ever have
any money--I had married her for herself.

"So would Lalor Maitland," he retorted, "and he is a gentleman."

After this Irma discussed no more. She felt it to be useless. Naturally,
also, she was hurt to the heart that Louis, once her own little Louis,
should compare her husband to Lalor Maitland. Well, for that I do not
blame her.

All day long Louis stayed in the Wood Parlour with his books. I was busy
with an important article on the "Moors in Spain," suggested by my
recent researches into the history of the irrigation of fields and
gardens in the south of Europe.

Louis came down to dinner at twelve, or a few minutes after. He seemed
somewhat more cheerful than was usual with him, and actually spoke a
little to me, asking me lend him my grandfather's shotgun, to put it in
order for him, and that powder and ball might be placed in his chamber.
He had seen game-birds feeding quite close, and thought that by opening
the window he might manage to shoot some of them.

I did as he asked me before going back to my work. Irma smiled at me,
being well pleased. For it seemed to her that Louis's ill-temper was
wearing away. Now my grandmother and Aunt Jen were inveterate
tea-lovers, which was then not so common a drink in the country as it is
now. Irma sometimes took a cup with them for company, and, because it
also refreshed me in my labours, I also joined them. But with me it was
done chiefly for the sake of the pleasant talk, being mostly my
grandmother's reminiscences, and sometimes for a sight of my mother, who
would run across of a sunny afternoon for a look at baby.

That day we sat and talked rather longer than usual. A certain strain
seemed to have departed from the house. I thin