the horses, and all
other things I want, I'll go where I can have them."

What did she mean? Lionel's cheek turned white with the taunt the words
might be supposed to imply. He held her two hands in his, pressing them
nervously.

"You shall not force me to quarrel with you, Sibylla," he continued,
with emotion. "I have almost registered a vow that no offensive word or
conduct on your part shall make me forget myself for a moment; or render
me other than an ever considerate, tender husband. It may be that our
marriage was a mistake for both of us; but we shall do well to make the
best of it. It is the only course remaining."

He spoke in a strangely earnest tone; one of deep agitation. Sibylla was
aroused. She had believed that Lionel blindly loved her. Otherwise she
might have been more careful to retain his love--there's no knowing.

"How do you mean that our marriage was a mistake for both of us?" she
hastily cried.

"You do your best to remind me continually that it must be so," was his
reply.

"Psha!" returned Sibylla. And Lionel, without another word, quitted her
and walked away. In these moments, above all others, would the image of
Lucy Tempest rise up before his sight. Beat it down as he would, it was
ever present to him. A mistake in his marriage! Ay; none save Lionel
knew how fatal a one.

He passed on direct to the terrace, avoiding the lawn, traversed it, and
went out at the large gates. Thence he made his way to Poynton's, the
veterinary surgeon, who also dealt in horses. At least, dealt in them so
far as that he would buy and sell when employed to do so.

The man was in his yard, watching a horse go through his paces. He came
forward to meet Lionel.

"Mrs. Verner has been talking to you about some ponies, she tells me,"
began Lionel. "What are they?"

"A very handsome pair, sir. Just the thing for a lady to drive. They are
to be sold for a hundred and fifty pounds. It's under their value."

"Spirited?"

"Yes. They have their mettle about them. Good horses always have, you
know, sir. Mrs. Verner has given me the commission."

"Which I am come to rescind," replied Lionel, calling up a light smile
to his face. "I cannot have my wife's neck risked by her attempting to
drive spirited ponies, Poynton. She knows nothing of driving, is
constitutionally timid, and--in short, I do not wish the order
executed."

"Very well, sir," was the man's reply. "There's no harm done. I was at
Verner's Pride w