"May I ask which of the two you intend to marry!" continued the
barrister, neither suppressing nor attempting to soften his indignant
tones. "As this country's laws are against a plurality of wives, you will
be unable, I imagine, to espouse them both."

Hartledon looked at him, beseechingly, and a sudden compassion came over
Mr. Carr. He asked himself whether it was quite the way to treat a
perplexed man who was very dear to him.

"If I am severe, it is for your sake. I assure you I scarcely know what
advice to give. It is Miss Ashton, of course, whom you intend to make
Lady Hartledon?"

"Of course it is. The difficulty in the matter is getting clear of
Maude."

"And the formidable countess-dowager. You must tell Maude the truth."

"Impossible, Carr. I might have done it once; but the thing has gone on
so long. The dowager would devour me."

"Let her try to. I should speak to Maude alone, and put her upon her
generosity to release you. Tell her you presumed upon your cousinship;
and confess that you have long been engaged to marry Miss Ashton."

"She knows that: they have both known it all along. My brother was the
first to tell them, before he died."

"They knew it?" inquired Mr. Carr, believing he had not heard correctly.

"Certainly. There has been no secret made of my engagement to Anne. All
the world knows of that."

"Then--though I do not in the least defend or excuse you--your breaking
with Lady Maude may be more pardonable. They are poor, are they not, this
Dowager Kirton and Lady Maude?"

"Poor as Job. Hard up, I think."

"Then they are angling for the broad lands of Hartledon. I see it all.
You have been a victim to fortune-hunting."

"There you are wrong, Carr. I can't answer for the dowager one way or the
other; but Maude is the most disinterested--"

"Of course: girls on the look-out for establishments always are. Have it
as you like."

He spoke in tones of ridicule; and Hartledon jumped off the stile and led
the way home.

That Lord Hartledon had got himself into a very serious predicament, Mr.
Carr plainly saw. His good nature, his sensitive regard for the feelings
of others, rendering it so impossible for him to say no, and above all
his vacillating disposition, were his paramount characteristics still: in
a degree they ever would be. Easily led as ever, he was as a very reed
in the hands of the crafty old woman of the world, located with him. She
had determined that he should becom