rn what it was that her father had meant when he spoke of the
pleasure of living with gentlemen. Arthur Fletcher certainly was a
gentleman. He would not have entertained the suspicion which her
husband had expressed. He could not have failed to believe such
assertions as had been made. He could never have suggested to his own
wife that another man had endeavoured to entrap her into a secret
correspondence. She seemed to hear the tones of Arthur Fletcher's
voice, as those of her husband still rang in her ear when he bade her
remember that she was now removed from her father's control. Every
now and then the tears would come to her eyes, and she would sit
pondering, listless, and low in heart. Then she would suddenly rouse
herself with a shake, and take up her book with a resolve that she
would read steadily, would assure herself as she did so that her
husband should still be her hero. The intelligence at any rate was
there, and, in spite of his roughness, the affection which she
craved. And the ambition, too, was there. But, alas, alas! why should
such vile suspicions have fouled his mind?

He was late that night, but when he came he kissed her brow as she
lay in bed, and she knew that his temper was again smooth. She
feigned to be sleepy, though not asleep, as she just put her hand up
to his cheek. She did not wish to speak to him again that night, but
she was glad to know that in the morning he would smile on her. "Be
early at breakfast," he said to her as he left her the next morning,
"for I'm going down to Silverbridge to-day."

Then she started up. "To-day!"

"Yes;--by the 11.20. There is plenty of time, only don't be unusually
late."

Of course she was something more than usually early, and when she
came out she found him reading his paper. "It's all settled now," he
said. "Grey has applied for the Hundreds, and Mr. Rattler is to move
for the new writ to-morrow. It has come rather sudden at last, as
these things always do after long delays. But they say the suddenness
is rather in my favour."

"When will the election take place?"

"I suppose in about a fortnight;--perhaps a little longer."

"And must you be at Silverbridge all that time?"

"Oh dear no. I shall stay there to-night, and perhaps to-morrow
night. Of course I shall telegraph to you directly I find how it is
to be. I shall see the principal inhabitants, and probably make a
speech or two."

"I do so wish I could hear you."

"You'd find it aw