e; I'm only a lawyer, and I can
sit waterproof under another shower of Miss Gwilt's tears!"

"Damn it, Mr. Pedgift, tell me in plain words what you want to do!"
cried Allan, losing his temper at last.

"In plain words, Mr. Armadale, I want to keep Miss Gwilt's proceedings
privately under view, as long as she stops in this neighborhood. I
answer for finding a person who will look after her delicately
and discreetly. And I agree to discontinue even this harmless
superintendence of her actions, if there isn't good reasons shown for
continuing it, to your entire satisfaction, in a week's time. I make
that moderate proposal, sir, in what I sincerely believe to be Miss
Milroy's interest, and I wait your answer, Yes or No."

"Can't I have time to consider?" asked Allan, driven to the last
helpless expedient of taking refuge in delay.

"Certainly, Mr. Armadale. But don't forget, while you are considering,
that Miss Milroy is in the habit of walking out alone in your park,
innocent of all apprehension of danger, and that Miss Gwilt is perfectly
free to take any advantage of that circumstance that Miss Gwilt
pleases."

"Do as you like!" exclaimed Allan, in despair. "And, for God's sake,
don't torment me any longer!"

Popular prejudice may deny it, but the profession of the law is a
practically Christian profession in one respect at least. Of all
the large collection of ready answers lying in wait for mankind on
a lawyer's lips, none is kept in better working order than "the soft
answer which turneth away wrath." Pedgift Senior rose with the alacrity
of youth in his legs, and the wise moderation of age on his tongue.
"Many thanks, sir," he said, "for the attention you have bestowed on me.
I congratulate you on your decision, and I wish you good-evening." This
time his indicative snuff-box was not in his hand when he opened the
door, and he actually disappeared without coming back for a second
postscript.

Allan's head sank on his breast when he was left alone. "If it was only
the end of the week!" he thought, longingly. "If I only had Midwinter
back again!"

As that aspiration escaped the client's lips, the lawyer got gayly
into his gig. "Hie away, old girl!" cried Pedgift Senior, patting
the fast-trotting mare with the end of his whip. "I never keep a lady
waiting--and I've got business to-night with one of your own sex!"

VII. THE MARTYRDOM OF MISS GWILT.

The outskirts of the little town of Thorpe Ambrose, on