; and the
ill-fated Lady Isabel truly believed that every sacred feeling which
ought to exist between man and wife was betrayed by Mr. Carlyle.

"Be avenged on that false hound, Isabel. He was never worthy of you.
Leave your life of misery, and come to happiness."

In her bitter distress and wrath, she broke into a storm of sobs.
Were they caused by passion against her husband, or by those bold and
shameless words? Alas! Alas! Francis Levison applied himself to soothe
her with all the sweet and dangerous sophistry of his crafty nature.

The minutes flew on. A quarter to ten; now a quarter past ten; and still
Richard Hare lingered on with his mother, and still Mr. Carlyle and
Barbara paced patiently the garden path. At half-past ten Richard came
forth, after having taken his last farewell. Then came Barbara's tearful
farewell, which Mr. Carlyle witnessed; and then a hard grasp of that
gentleman's hand, and Richard plunged amidst the trees to depart the way
he came.

"Good night, Barbara," said Mr. Carlyle.

"Will you not come in and say good night to mamma?"

"Not now; it is late. Tell her how glad I am things have gone off so
well."

He started off at a strapping pace toward his home, and Barbara leaned
on the gate to indulge her tears. Not a soul passed to interrupt her,
and the justice did not come. What could have become of him? What could
the Buck's Head be thinking of, to retain respectable elderly justices
from their beds, who ought to go home early and set a good example to
the parish? Barbara knew, the next day, that Justice Hare, with a few
more gentlemen, had been seduced from the staid old inn to a friend's
house, to an entertainment of supper, pipes, and whist, two tables,
penny points, and it was between twelve and one ere the party rose from
the fascination. So far, well--as it happened.

Barbara knew not how long she lingered at the gate; ten minutes it
may have been. Nobody summoned her. Mrs. Hare was indulging her grief
indoors, giving no thought to Barbara, and the justice did not make his
appearance. Exceedingly surprised was Barbara to hear fast footsteps,
and to find that they were Mr. Carlyle's.

"The more haste, the less speed, Barbara," he called out as he came up.
"I had got half-way home and have had to come back again. When I went
into your sitting-room, I left a small parcel, containing a parchment,
on the sideboard. Will you get it for me?"

Barbara ran indoors and brought forth