ion before
the sitting was over to leave the room, so that the artist might have
an opportunity of speaking a word in private to his model,--if he
had any such word to speak. And Mrs. Broughton, as she did this, felt
that she was doing her duty as a wife, a friend, and a Christian. She
was doing her duty as a wife, because she was giving the clearest
proof in the world,--the clearest at any rate to herself,--that the
intimacy between herself and her friend Conway had in it nothing that
was improper. And she was doing her duty as a friend, because Clara
Van Siever, with her large expectations, would be an eligible wife.
And she was doing her duty as a Christian, because the whole thing
was intended to be moral. Miss Demolines had declared that her
friend Maria Clutterbuck,--as Miss Demolines delighted to call Mrs
Broughton, in memory of dear old innocent days,--had high principles;
and the reader will see that she was justified in her declaration.
"It will be better so," said Mrs. Broughton, as she sat upon her bed
and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Yes; it will be better
so. There is a pang. Of course there's a pang. But it will be better
so." Acting upon this high principle, she allowed Conway Dalrymple
five minutes to say what he had to say to Clara Van Siever. Then she
allowed herself to indulge in some very savage feelings in reference
to her husband,--accusing her husband in her thoughts of great
cruelty,--nay, of brutality, because of certain sharp words that he
had said as to Conway Dalrymple. "But of course he can't understand,"
said Mrs. Broughton to herself. "How is it to be expected that he
should understand?"

But she allowed her friend on this occasion only five minutes,
thinking probably that so much time might suffice. A woman, when she
is jealous, is apt to attribute to the other woman with whom her
jealousy is concerned, both weakness and timidity, and to the man
both audacity and strength. A woman who has herself taken perhaps
twelve months in the winning, will think that another woman is to
be won in five minutes. It is not to be supposed that Mrs. Dobbs
Broughton had ever been won by any one except Mr. Dobbs Broughton.
At least, let it not be supposed that she had ever acknowledged a
spark of love for Conway Dalymple. But nevertheless there was enough
of jealousy in her present mood to make her think poorly of Miss
Van Siever's capacity for standing a siege against the artist's
eloquence