ion of his wondrous kindness.
Did he not know that she was without a home to call her own, without
money--absolutely without money, save what would be given her in
charity?

When Lord Mount Severn reached London, and the hotel which the Vanes
were in the habit of using, the first object his eyes lighted on was his
own wife, whom he had believed to be safe at Castle Marling. He inquired
the cause.

Lady Mount Severn gave herself little trouble to explain. She had been
up a day or two--could order her mourning so much better in person--and
William did not seem well, so she bought him up for a change.

"I am sorry you came to town, Emma," remarked the earl, after listening.
"Isabel is gone to-day to Castle Marling."

Lady Mount Severn quickly lifted her head, "What's she gone there for?"

"It is the most disgraceful piece of business altogether," returned
the earl, without replying to the immediate question. "Mount Severn has
died, worse than a beggar, and there's not a shilling for Isabel."

"It never was expected there would be much."

"But there's nothing--not a penny; nothing for her own personal
expenses. I gave her a pound or two to-day, for she was completely
destitute!"

The countess opened her eyes. "Where will she live? What will become of
her?"

"She must live with us. She--"

"With us!" interrupted Lady Mount Severn, her voice almost reaching a
scream. "That she never shall."

"She must, Emma. There is nowhere else for her to live. I have been
obliged to decide it so; and she is gone, as I tell you, to Castle
Marling to-day."

Lady Mount Severn grew pale with anger. She rose from her seat and
confronted her husband, the table being between them. "Listen, Raymond;
I _will not_ have Isabel Vane under my roof. I hate her. How could you
be cajoled into sanctioning such a thing?"

"I was not cajoled, and my sanction was not asked," he mildly replied.
"I proposed it. Where else is she to be?"

"I don't care where," was the obstinate retort. "Never with us."

"She is at Castle Marling now--gone to it as her home," resumed the
earl; "and even you, when you return, will scarcely venture to turn her
out again into the road, or to the workhouse. She will not trouble you
long," carelessly continued the earl. "One so lovely as Isabel will be
sure to marry early; and she appears as gentle and sweet-tempered a girl
as I ever saw; so whence can arise your dislike to her, I don't pretend
to guess. Many a man