y were now sauntering up the walk, the
sailor's arm thrown round the waist of Mrs. Carlyle. "Oh! The shameless
woman!" Ay; she could be bitter enough upon graceless doings when
enacted by another.

But, what was her astonishment when she saw Mr. Carlyle advance,
and that his appearance caused not the slightest change in their
gracelessness, for the sailor's arm was not withdrawn. Two or three
minutes they stood--the three--talking together in a group. Then the
good-nights were exchanged, the sailor left them, and Mr. Carlyle, his
own arm lovingly pressed where the other's had been, withdrew with his
wife. The truth--that it was Barbara's brother--dashed to the mind of
Lady Isabel.

"Was I mad?" she cried, with a hollow laugh. "_She_ false to him? No,
no; that fate was reserved for me alone!"

She followed them to the house--she glanced in at the windows of the
drawing-room. Lights and fire were in the room, but the curtains and
windows were not closed for the night, for it was through those windows
that Mr. Carlyle and his wife had passed in and out on their visits to
the covered walk. There they were, alone in their happiness, and she
stopped to glance in upon it. Lord Mount Severn had departed for London,
to be down again early in the week. The tea was on the table, but
Barbara had not begun to make it. She sat on the sofa, by the fire, her
face, with its ever loving gaze upon it, turned up to her husband's. He
stood near, was talking with apparent earnestness, and looking down at
Barbara. Another moment, and a smile crossed his lips, the same sweet
smile so often bent upon her in the bygone days. Yes, they were together
in their unclouded happiness, and she--she turned away toward her own
lonely sitting-room, sick and faint at heart.

Ball & Treadman, as the brass plate on their office door intimated, were
conveyancers and attorneys at law. Mr. Treadman, who attended chiefly
to the conveyancing, lived at the office, with his family. Mr. Ball, a
bachelor, lived away; Lawyer Ball, West Lynne styled him. Not a young
bachelor; midway, he may have been between forty and fifty. A short
stout man, with a keen face and green eyes. He took up any practice that
was brought to him--dirty odds and ends that Mr. Carlyle would not have
touched with his toe--but, as that gentleman had remarked, he could be
honest and true upon occasion, and there was no doubt that he would be
so to Richard Hare. To his house, on Monday morning,