in an explosive temper now; but she was in
a worse than customary this evening. Sibylla felt the difference between
Verner's Pride and Deerham Court. She lived but in excitement; she cared
but for gaiety. In removing to Deerham Court she had gone readily,
believing that she should there find a large portion of the gaiety she
had been accustomed to at Verner's Pride; that she should, at any rate,
be living with the appliances of wealth about her, and should go out a
great deal with Lady Verner. She had not bargained for Lady Verner's
establishment being reduced to simplicity and quietness, for her laying
down her carriage and discharging her men-servants and selling her
horses, and living again the life of a retired gentlewoman. Yet all
these changes had come to pass, and Sibylla's inward spirit turned
restive. She had everything that any reasonable mind could possibly
desire, every comfort; but quiet comfort and Sibylla's taste did not
accord. Her husband was out a great deal at Verner's Pride and on the
estate. As he had resolved to do over John Massingbird's dinner-table,
so he was doing--putting his shoulder to the wheel. He had never looked
after things as he was looking now. To be the master of Verner's Pride
was one thing, to be the hired manager of Verner's Pride was another;
and Lionel found every hour of his time occupied. His was no
eye-service; his conscience was engaged in his work and he did it
efficiently.

Sibylla still sat at the window, looking out into the twilight. Decima
stood near the fire in a thoughtful mood. Lucy was downstairs in the
drawing-room at the piano. They could hear the faint echo of her soft
playing as they sat there in silence. Sibylla was in no humour to talk:
she had repulsed Decima rudely--or it may rather be said
fractiously--when the latter had ventured on conversation. Lady Verner
had gone out to dinner. The Countess of Elmsley had been there that day,
and she had asked Lady Verner to go over in the evening and take a
friendly dinner with her. "Bring any of them that you like with you,"
had been her careless words in parting. But Lady Verner had not chosen
to take "any of them." She had dressed and driven off in the hired fly
alone; and this it was that was exciting the anger of Sibylla. She
thought Lady Verner might have taken her.

Lucy came in and knelt down on the rug before the fire, half shivering.
"I am so cold!" she said. "Do you know what I did, Decima? I let the
fir