pitable as it may appear.'

'No one can blame you for such an avowal,' replied he gravely: 'not even
the gentlemen themselves, I imagine. I'll just tell you,' he continued,
as if actuated by a sudden resolution, 'what was said last night in the
dining-room, after you left us: perhaps you will not mind it, as you're
so very philosophical on certain points,' he added with a slight sneer.
'They were talking about Lord Lowborough and his delectable lady, the
cause of whose sudden departure is no secret amongst them; and her
character is so well known to them all, that, nearly related to me as she
is, I could not attempt to defend it. Curse me!' he muttered, par
parenthese, 'if I don't have vengeance for this! If the villain must
disgrace the family, must he blazon it abroad to every low-bred knave of
his acquaintance? I beg your pardon, Mrs. Huntingdon. Well, they were
talking of these things, and some of them remarked that, as she was
separated from her husband, he might see her again when he pleased.'

'"Thank you," said he; "I've had enough of her for the present: I'll not
trouble to see her, unless she comes to me."

'"Then what do you mean to do, Huntingdon, when we're gone?" said Ralph
Hattersley. "Do you mean to turn from the error of your ways, and be a
good husband, a good father, and so forth; as I do, when I get shut of
you and all these rollicking devils you call your friends? I think it's
time; and your wife is fifty times too good for you, you know--"

'And he added some praise of you, which you would not thank me for
repeating, nor him for uttering; proclaiming it aloud, as he did, without
delicacy or discrimination, in an audience where it seemed profanation to
utter your name: himself utterly incapable of understanding or
appreciating your real excellences. Huntingdon, meanwhile, sat quietly
drinking his wine,--or looking smilingly into his glass and offering no
interruption or reply, till Hattersley shouted out,--"Do you hear me,
man?"

'"Yes, go on," said he.

'"Nay, I've done," replied the other: "I only want to know if you intend
to take my advice."

'"What advice?"

'"To turn over a new leaf, you double-dyed scoundrel," shouted Ralph,
"and beg your wife's pardon, and be a good boy for the future."

'"My wife! what wife? I have no wife," replied Huntingdon, looking
innocently up from his glass, "or if I have, look you, gentlemen: I value
her so highly that any one among you, that can