ty
of his son-in-law. When the time came, when he saw his daughter in
the morning after the notice had been given, he could not bring
himself even yet to say to her that he had issued an order for
his banishment. Days went by and Lopez was still there, and the
old barrister said no further word on the subject. The two men
never met;--or met simply in the hall or passages. Wharton himself
studiously avoided such meetings, thus denying himself the commonest
uses of his own house. At last Emily told him that her husband had
fixed the day for her departure. The next Indian mail-packet by which
they would leave England would start from Southampton on the 2nd of
April, and she was to be ready to go on that day. "How is it to be
till then?" the father asked in a low, uncertain voice.

"I suppose I may remain with you."

"And your husband?"

"He will be here too,--I suppose."

"Such a misery,--such a destruction of everything no man ever
heard of before!" said Mr. Wharton. To this she made no reply,
but continued working at some necessary preparation for her final
departure. "Emily," he said, "I will make any sacrifice to prevent
it. What can be done? Short of injuring Everett's interests I will do
anything."

"I do not know," she said.

"You must understand something of his affairs."

"Nothing whatever. He has told me nothing of them. In earlier
days,--soon after our marriage,--he bade me get money from you."

"When you wrote to me for money from Italy?"

"And after that. I have refused to do anything;--to say a word. I
told him that it must be between you and him. What else could I say?
And now he tells me nothing."

"I cannot think that he should want you to go with him." Then there
was again a pause. "Is it because he loves you?"

"Not that, papa."

"Why then should he burden himself with a companion? His money,
whatever he has, would go further without such impediment."

"Perhaps he thinks, papa, that while I am with him he has a hold upon
you."

"He shall have a stronger hold by leaving you. What is he to gain? If
I could only know his price."

"Ask him, papa."

"I do not even know how I am to speak to him again."

Then again there was a pause. "Papa," she said after a while, "I have
done it myself. Let me go. You will still have Everett. And it may be
that after a time I shall come back to you. He will not kill me, and
it may be that I shall not die."

"By God!" said Mr. Wharton, rising from his