exandrina De
Courcy whom Mr. Crosbie had married. It had been at Mr. Thorne's house
at Ullathorne, and on that day she had done a thing which she had
never since remembered without blushing. But it was an old story now,
and a story of which her companion knew nothing,--of which he never
could know anything. That day at Ullathorne Mrs. Arabin, the wife of
the Dean of Barchester, than whom there was no more discreet clerical
matron in the diocese, had--boxed a clergyman's ears!

"Yes," said John, speaking of Crosbie, "he was a wise fellow; he knew
what he was about; he married an earl's daughter."

"And now I remember hearing that somebody gave him a terrible
beating. Perhaps it was you?"

"It wasn't terrible at all," said Johnny.

"Then it was you?"

"Oh, yes; it was I."

"Then it was you who saved poor old Lord De Guest from the bull?"

"Go on, Mrs. Arabin. There is no end to the grand things I've done."

"You're quite a hero of romance."

He bit his lip as he told himself that he was not enough of a hero.
"I don't know about that," said Johnny. "I think what a man ought to
do in these days is to seem not to care what he eats and drinks, and
to have his linen very well got up. Then he'll be a hero." But that
was hard upon Lily.

"Is that what Miss Dale requires?" said Mrs. Arabin.

"I was not thinking about her particularly," said Johnny, lying.

They slept a night in Paris, as they had done also at Turin,--Mrs
Arabin not finding herself able to accomplish such marvels in the
way of travelling as her companion had achieved,--and then arrived
in London in the evening. She was taken to a certain quiet clerical
hotel at the top of Suffolk Street, much patronised by bishops and
deans of the better sort, expecting to find a message there from her
husband. And there was a message--just arrived. The dean had reached
Florence three days after her departure; and as he would do the
journey home in twenty-four hours less than she had taken, he would
be there, at the hotel, on the day after to-morrow. "I suppose I may
wait for him, Mr. Eames?" said Mrs. Arabin.

"I will see Mr. Toogood to-night, and I will call here to-morrow,
whether I see him or not. At what hour will you be in?"

"Don't trouble yourself to do that. You must take care of Sir Raffle
Buffle, you know."

"I shan't go near Sir Raffle Buffle to-morrow, nor yet the next day.
You mustn't suppose that I am afraid of Sir Raffle Buffle."

"You are only