received to her letter was not at all what she wanted; it increased her
impatience; she had read it endless times, trying to get at the very
meaning of it. Christmas must bring an end to this wretched state of
things; at Christmas Dick would come to London and marry Emma; no doubt
he had that time in view. Fears which she would not consciously admit
were hovering about her night and day. She had begun to talk to herself
aloud, a consequence of over-stress on a brain never used to anxious
thought; she went about the upper rooms of the house muttering 'Dick's
an honest man.' To keep moving seemed a necessity to her; the chair in
the dim corner of the dining-room she now scarcely ever occupied, and
the wonted employment of her fingers was in abeyance. She spent most of
her day in the kitchen; already two servants had left because they could
not endure her fidgety supervision. She was growing suspicious of every
one; Alice had to listen ten times a day to complaints of dishonesty in
the domestics or the tradespeople; the old woman kept as keen a watch
over petty expenditure as if poverty had still to be guarded against.
And she was constantly visiting the Vines; she would rise at small hours
to get her house-work done, so as to be able to spend the afternoon in
Wilton Square. That, in truth, was still her home; the new house could
never be to her what the old was; she was a stranger amid the new
furniture, and sighed with relief as soon as her eyes rested on the
familiar chairs and tables which had been her household gods through a
lifetime.

'Arry had given comparatively little trouble of late; beyond an
occasional return home an hour or so after midnight, his proceedings
seemed to be perfectly regular. He saw a good deal of Mr. Keene, who, as
Alice gathered from various remarks in Richard's letters, exercised over
him a sort of tutorage. It was singular how completely Richard seemed
to have changed in his judgment of Mr. Keene. 'His connection with
newspapers makes him very useful,' said one letter. 'Be as friendly with
him as you like; I trust to your good sense and understanding of
your own interest to draw the line.' When at the house Mr. Keene was
profoundly respectful; his position at such times was singular, for as
often as not Alice had to entertain him alone. Profound, too, was the
journalist's discretion in regard to all doings down at Wanley. Knowing
he had several times visited the Manor, Alice often sought info