usband,
written before she knew of his stroke. She related the circumstances of
the marriage in the gentlest manner, and gave cogent reasons and excuses
for consenting to the premature union, which was now an accomplished fact
indeed. She had no idea, till sudden pressure was put upon her, that the
contract was expected to be carried out so soon, but being taken half
unawares, she had consented, having learned that Stephen Reynard, now
their son-in-law, was becoming a great favourite at Court, and that he
would in all likelihood have a title granted him before long. No harm
could come to their dear daughter by this early marriage-contract, seeing
that her life would be continued under their own eyes, exactly as before,
for some years. In fine, she had felt that no other such fair
opportunity for a good marriage with a shrewd courtier and wise man of
the world, who was at the same time noted for his excellent personal
qualities, was within the range of probability, owing to the rusticated
lives they led at King's-Hintock. Hence she had yielded to Stephen's
solicitation, and hoped her husband would forgive her. She wrote, in
short, like a woman who, having had her way as to the deed, is prepared
to make any concession as to words and subsequent behaviour.

All this Dornell took at its true value, or rather, perhaps, at less than
its true value. As his life depended upon his not getting into a
passion, he controlled his perturbed emotions as well as he was able,
going about the house sadly and utterly unlike his former self. He took
every precaution to prevent his wife knowing of the incidents of his
sudden illness, from a sense of shame at having a heart so tender; a
ridiculous quality, no doubt, in her eyes, now that she had become so
imbued with town ideas. But rumours of his seizure somehow reached her,
and she let him know that she was about to return to nurse him. He
thereupon packed up and went off to his own place at Falls-Park.

Here he lived the life of a recluse for some time. He was still too
unwell to entertain company, or to ride to hounds or elsewhither; but
more than this, his aversion to the faces of strangers and acquaintances,
who knew by that time of the trick his wife had played him, operated to
hold him aloof.

Nothing could influence him to censure Betty for her share in the
exploit. He never once believed that she had acted voluntarily. Anxious
to know how she was getting on, he despa