the
penetration of the husband pleading to thwart its course. His offer was
wealth: that is, luxury, amusement, ease. The sub-audible 'himself' into
the bargain was disregarded, not counting with one who was an upward
rush of fire at the thought that she was called to share her brother's
dangers.

Chillon cordially believed the earl to be the pestilent half madman,
junction with whom is a constant trepidation for the wife, when it is
not a screaming plight. He said so, and Carinthia let him retain his
opinion. She would have said it herself to support her scheme, though
'mad' applied to a man moving in the world with other men was not
understood by her.

With Henrietta for the earl's advocate, she was patient as the deaf
rock-wall enthusiam can be against entreaties to change its direction or
bid it disperse: The 'private band of picked musicians' at the disposal
of the Countess of Fleetwood, and Opera singers (Henrietta mentioned
resonant names) hired for wonderful nights at Esslemont and Calesford
or on board the earl's beautiful schooner yacht, were no temptation. Nor
did Henrietta's allusions to his broken appearance move his wife, except
in her saying regretfully: 'He changes.'

On the hall table at Esslemont, a letter from his bankers informed the
earl of a considerable sum of money paid in to his account in the name
of Lord Brailstone. Chumley Potts, hanging at him like a dog without
a master since the death of his friend Ambrose, had journeyed down:
'Anxious about you,' he said. Anxious about or attracted by the
possessor of Ambrose Mallard's 'clean sweeper,' the silver-mounted small
pistol; sight of which he begged to have; and to lengthened his jaw
on hearing it was loaded. A loaded pistol, this dark little one to the
right of the earl's blotting-pad and pens, had the look of a fearful
link with his fallen chaps and fishy hue. Potts maundered moralities
upon 'life,' holding the thing in his hand, weighing it, eyeing the
muzzle. He 'couldn't help thinking of what is going to happen to us
after it all': and 'Brosey knows now!' was followed by a twitch of one
cheek and the ejaculation 'Forever!' Fleetwood alive and Ambrose dead
were plucking the startled worldling to a peep over the verge into our
abyss; and the young lord's evident doing of the same commanded Chumley
Potts' imitation of him under the cloud Ambrose had become for both of
them.

He was recommended to see Lord Feltre, if he had a desire to be