gs for Deerham
Court, inquired into the state of her accounts, and found Sibylla had
told him correctly. He gave Benoite a month's wages and a month's board
wages, and informed her that as soon as her mistress had left the house,
she would be at liberty to leave it. A scene ensued with Sibylla, but
for once Lionel was firm.

"You will have every attendance provided for you, Sibylla, my mother
said. But I cannot take Benoite; neither would Lady Verner admit her."

John Massingbird had agreed to keep on most of the old servants. The
superfluous ones, those who had been engaged when Verner's Pride grew
gay, Lionel found the means of discharging; paying them as he had paid
Benoite.

Heavy work for him, that day! the breaking up of his home, the turning
forth to the world. And, as if his heart were not sufficiently heavy, he
had the trouble of Sibylla. The arrangements had been three or four days
in process. It had taken that time to pack and settle things, since he
first spoke to Lady Verner. There were various personal trifles of his
and Sibylla's to be singled out and separated from what was now John
Massingbird's. But all was done at last, and they were ready to depart.
Lionel went to John Massingbird.

"You will allow me to order the carriage for Sibylla? She will like it
better than a hired one."

"Certainly," replied John, with much graciousness. "But what's the good
of leaving before dinner?"

"My mother is expecting us," simply answered Lionel.

Just the same innate refinement of feeling which had characterised him
in the old days. It so happened that Lionel had never bought a carriage
since he came into Verner's Pride. Stephen Verner had been prodigal in
his number of carriages, although the carriages had a sinecure of it,
and Lionel had found no occasion to purchase. Of course they belonged to
John Massingbird; everything else belonged to him. He, for the last
time, ordered the close carriage for his wife. His carriage, it might
surely be said, more than John Massingbird's. Lionel did not deem it so,
and asked permission ere he gave the order.

Sibylla had never seen her husband quietly resolute in opposing her
whims, as he had been with regard to Benoite. She scarcely knew what to
make of it; but she had deemed it well to dry her tears, and withdraw
her opposition. She came down dressed at the time of departure, and
looked about for John Massingbird. That gentleman was in the study. Its
large desk, a wh