example--all this was vexatious,
distressing: a mode of management which out of the simplest incidents
of domestic life contrived to extract some degree of perplexity and
annoyance.

"Do not you think, George," said Lady Marney, "that we had better talk
it over a little?"

"Not at all," said Lord Marney: "Charles will go, and it quite suits me,
and therefore what necessity for any consultation?"

"Oh! if you and Charles like to go, certainly." said Lady Marney in a
hesitating tone; "only I shall be very sorry to lose your society."

"How do you mean lose our society Arabella? Of course you must go with
us. I particularly want you to go. You are Lady Joan's most intimate
friend; I believe there is no one she likes so much."

"I cannot go the day after to-morrow," said Lady Marney, speaking in a
whisper, and looking volumes of deprecation.

"I cannot help it," said Lord Marney; "you should have told me this
before. I wrote to Mowbray to-day, that we should be with him the day
after to-morrow, and stay a week."

"But you never mentioned it to me," said Lady Marney, slightly blushing
and speaking in a tone of gentle reproach.

"I should like to know when I am to find time to mention the contents
of every letter I write," said Lord Marney; "particularly with all the
vexatious business I have had on my hands to-day. But so it is; the more
one tries to save you trouble, the more discontented you get."

"No, not discontented, George."

"I do not know what you call discontented; but when a man has made every
possible arrangement to please you and every body, and all his plans are
to be set aside merely because the day he has fixed on does not exactly
suit your fancy, if that be not discontent, I should like very much to
know what is, Arabella."

Lady Marney did not reply. Always sacrificed, always yielding, the
moment she attempted to express an opinion, she ever seemed to assume
the position not of the injured but the injurer.

Arabella was a woman of abilities, which she had cultivated. She had
excellent sense, and possessed many admirable qualities; she was far
from being devoid of sensibility; but her sweet temper shrank from
controversy, and Nature had not endowed her with a spirit which could
direct and control. She yielded without a struggle to the arbitrary will
and unreasonable caprice of a husband, who was scarcely her equal in
intellect, and far her inferior in all the genial qualities of our
nature, bu