rds awakened, stamped his foot upon
the floor, ground his teeth, and corrugated his brow, like one under the
influence of acute physical pain.

'It was wrong, it was wrong!' he muttered at length. 'Nothing can excuse
it; nothing can atone for it,--for nothing can recall those years of
cursed credulity; nothing obliterate them!--nothing, nothing!' he
repeated in a whisper, whose despairing bitterness precluded all
resentment.

'When I put the case to myself, I own it was wrong,' I answered; 'but I
can only now regret that I did not see it in this light before, and that,
as you say, nothing can recall the past.'

Something in my voice or in the spirit of this answer seemed to alter his
mood. Turning towards me, and attentively surveying my face by the dim
light, he said, in a milder tone than he had yet employed,--'You, too,
have suffered, I suppose.'

'I suffered much, at first.'

'When was that?'

'Two years ago; and two years hence you will be as calm as I am now, and
far, far happier, I trust, for you are a man, and free to act as you
please.'

Something like a smile, but a very bitter one, crossed his face for a
moment.

'You have not been happy, lately?' he said, with a kind of effort to
regain composure, and a determination to waive the further discussion of
his own calamity.

'Happy?' I repeated, almost provoked at such a question. 'Could I be so,
with such a husband?'

'I have noticed a change in your appearance since the first years of your
marriage,' pursued he: 'I observed it to--to that infernal demon,' he
muttered between his teeth; 'and he said it was your own sour temper that
was eating away your bloom: it was making you old and ugly before your
time, and had already made his fireside as comfortless as a convent cell.
You smile, Mrs. Huntingdon; nothing moves you. I wish my nature were as
calm as yours.'

'My nature was not originally calm,' said I. 'I have learned to appear
so by dint of hard lessons and many repeated efforts.'

At this juncture Mr. Hattersley burst into the room.

'Hallo, Lowborough!' he began--'Oh! I beg your pardon,' he exclaimed on
seeing me. 'I didn't know it was a _tete-a-tete_. Cheer up, man,' he
continued, giving Lord Lowborough a thump on the back, which caused the
latter to recoil from him with looks of ineffable disgust and irritation.
'Come, I want to speak with you a bit.'

'Speak, then.'

'But I'm not sure it would be quite agreeable to the lady w