he can offer to his wife. But a woman's heart is not
to be commanded--no, Mr. Midwinter, not even by the fortunate master of
Thorpe Ambrose, who commands everything else."

She looked him full in the face as she uttered that magnanimous
sentiment. His eyes dropped before hers, and his dark color deepened. He
had felt his heart leap in him at the declaration of her indifference to
Allan. For the first time since they had known each other, his interests
now stood self-revealed before him as openly adverse to the interests of
his friend.

"I have been guilty of the vanity of letting Mr. Armadale admire me,
and I have suffered for it," resumed Miss Gwilt. "If there had been any
confidence between my pupil and me, I might have easily satisfied her
that she might become Mrs. Armadale--if she could--without having any
rivalry to fear on my part. But Miss Milroy disliked and distrusted
me from the first. She took her own jealous view, no doubt, of Mr.
Armadale's thoughtless attentions to me. It was her interest to destroy
the position, such as it was, that I held in his estimation; and it is
quite likely her mother assisted her. Mrs. Milroy had her motive also
(which I am really ashamed to mention) for wishing to drive me out of
the house. Anyhow, the conspiracy has succeeded. I have been forced
(with Mr. Armadale's help) to leave the major's service. Don't be angry,
Mr. Midwinter! Don't form a hasty opinion! I dare say Miss Milroy has
some good qualities, though I have not found them out; and I assure you
again and again that I don't blame Mr. Armadale. I only blame the people
whose instrument he is."

"How is he their instrument? How can he be the instrument of any enemy
of yours?" asked Midwinter. "Pray excuse my anxiety, Miss Gwilt: Allan's
good name is as dear to me as my own!"

Miss Gwilt's eyes turned full on him again, and Miss Gwilt's heart
abandoned itself innocently to an outburst of enthusiasm. "How I admire
your earnestness!" she said. "How I like your anxiety for your friend!
Oh, if women could only form such friendships! Oh you happy, happy men!"
Her voice faltered, and her convenient tea-cup absorbed her for the
third time. "I would give all the little beauty I possess," she said,
"if I could only find such a friend as Mr. Armadale has found in _you_.
I never shall, Mr. Midwinter--I never shall. Let us go back to what we
were talking about. I can only tell you how your friend is concerned
in my misfortune by