nel, in a tone that
debarred further discussion.

"I knew no good would come of it," resumed Lady Verner, persistent in
expressing her opinion. "But for the wiles of that girl you might have
married happily, might have married Mary Elmsley."

"Mother, there is trouble enough upon us just now without introducing
old vexations," rejoined Lionel. "I have told you before that had I
never set eyes upon Sibylla after she married Frederick Massingbird,
Mary Elmsley would not have been my wife."

"If he comes back, he comes back to Verner's Pride?" pursued Lady Verner
in a low tone, breaking the pause which had ensued.

"Yes. Verner's Pride is his."

"And what shall you do? Turned, like a beggar, out on the face of the
earth?"

Like a beggar? Ay, far more like a beggar than Lady Verner, in her worst
apprehension, could picture.

"I must make my way on the earth as I best can," he replied in answer,
"I shall leave Europe--probably for India. I may find some means,
through my late father's friends, of getting my bread there."

Lady Verner appeared to appreciate the motive which no doubt dictated
the suggested course. She did not attempt to controvert it; she only
wrung her hands in passionate wailing.

"Oh, that you had not married her! that you had not subjected yourself
to this dreadful blight!"

Lionel rose. There were limits of endurance even for his aching heart.
Reproaches in a moment of trouble are as cold iron entering the soul.

"I will come in another time when you are more yourself, mother," was
all he said. "I could have borne sympathy from you this morning, better
than complaint."

He shook hands with her. He laid his hand in silence on Decima's
shoulder with a fond pressure as he passed her; her face was turned from
him, the tears silently streaming down it. He nodded to Lucy, who stood
at the other end of the room, and went out. But, ere he was half-way
across the ante-room, he heard hasty footsteps behind him. He turned to
behold Lucy Tempest, her hands extended, her face streaming down with
tears.

"Oh, Lionel, please not to go away thinking nobody sympathises with you!
I am so grieved; I am so sorry! If I can do anything for you, or for
Sibylla, to lighten the distress, I will do it."

He took the pretty, pleading hands in his, bending his face until it was
nearly on a level with hers. But that emotion nearly over-mastered him
in the moment's anguish, the very consciousness that he might be fre