unicating
with the major which it is impossible for her to discover. With this
conviction in her mind, she has become so unmanageable that no
person, with any chance of bettering herself, could possibly remain in
attendance on her; and sooner or later, the major, object to it as he
may, will be obliged to place her under proper medical care.

"That is the sum and substance of what the wearisome landlady, had to
tell me. Unnecessary to say that I was not in the least interested
by it. Even if the nurse's assertion is to be depended on--which
I persist in doubting--it is of no importance now. I know that Miss
Milroy, and nobody but Miss Milroy has utterly ruined my prospect of
becoming Mrs. Armadale of Thorpe Ambrose, and I care to know nothing
more. If her mother was really alone in the attempt to expose my false
reference, her mother seems to be suffering for it, at any rate. And so
good-by to Mrs. Milroy; and Heaven defend me from any more last glimpses
at the cottages seen through the medium of my landlady's spectacles!"

"Nine o'clock.--Bashwood has just left me, having come with news from
the great house. Pedgift the younger has made his attempt at bringing
about a reconciliation this very day, and has failed. I am the sole
cause of the failure. Armadale is quite willing to be reconciled if
Pedgift the elder will avoid all future occasion of disagreement between
them by never recurring to the subject of Miss Gwilt. This, however,
happens to be exactly the condition which Pedgift's father--with his
opinion of me and my doings--should consider it his duty to Armadale
_not_ to accept. So lawyer and client remain as far apart as ever, and
the obstacle of the Pedgifts is cleared out of my way.

"It might have been a very awkward obstacle, so far as Pedgift the elder
is concerned, if one of his suggestions had been carried out; I mean,
if an officer of the London police had been brought down here to look
at me. It is a question, even now, whether I had better not take to the
thick veil again, which I always wear in London and other large places.
The only difficulty is that it would excite remark in this inquisitive
little town to see me wearing a thick veil, for the first time, in the
summer weather.

"It is close on ten o'clock; I have been dawdling over my diary longer
than I supposed.

"No words can describe how weary and languid I feel. Why don't I take my
sleeping drops and go to bed? There is no meeting betwe