t who governed her by his iron selfishness.

Lady Marney absolutely had no will of her own. A hard, exact, literal,
bustling, acute being environed her existence; directed, planned,
settled everything. Her life was a series of petty sacrifices and
baulked enjoyments. If her carriage were at the door, she was never
certain that she would not have to send it away; if she had asked some
friends to her house, the chances were she would have to put them off;
if she were reading a novel, Lord Marney asked her to copy a letter; if
she were going to the opera, she found that Lord Marney had got seats
for her and some friend in the House of Lords, and seemed expecting the
strongest expressions of delight and gratitude from her for his unasked
and inconvenient kindness. Lady Marney had struggled against this
tyranny in the earlier days of their union. Innocent, inexperienced Lady
Marney! As if it were possible for a wife to contend against a selfish
husband, at once sharp-witted and blunt-hearted! She had appealed to
him, she had even reproached him; she had wept, once she had knelt.
But Lord Marney looked upon these demonstrations as the disordered
sensibility of a girl unused to the marriage state, and ignorant of the
wise authority of husbands, of which he deemed himself a model. And
so, after a due course of initiation, Lady Marney invisible for days,
plunged in remorseful reveries in the mysteries of her boudoir, and her
lord dining at his club and going to the minor theatres; the countess
was broken in, and became the perfect wife of a perfect husband.

Lord Marney, who was fond of chess, turned out Captain Grouse, and very
gallantly proposed to finish his game with Miss Poinsett, which Miss
Poinsett, who understood Lord Marney as well as he understood chess,
took care speedily to lose, so that his lordship might encounter a
champion worthy of him. Egremont seated by his sister-in-law, and
anxious by kind words to soothe the irritation which he had observed
with pain his brother create, entered into easy talk, and after some
time, said, "I find you have been good enough to mould my destiny."

Lady Marney looked a little surprised, and then said, "How so?"

"You have decided on I hear the most important step of my life."

"Indeed you perplex me."

"Lady Joan Fitz-Warene, your friend--"

The countess blushed; the name was a clue which she could follow, but
Egremont nevertheless suspected that the idea had never previous