course of nature
had taken place,--something monstrous and out of all thought and
forewarning; for the domestic traitor is a being apart from the orbit of
criminals: the felon has no fear of his innocent children; with a price
on his head, he lays it in safety on the bosom of his wife. In his home,
the ablest man, the most subtle and suspecting, can be as much a dupe as
the simplest. Were it not so as the rule, and the exceptions most rare,
this world were the riot of a hell!

And therefore it is that to the household perfidy, in all lands, in all
ages, God's curse seems to cleave, and to God's curse man abandons it;
he does not honour it by hate, still less will he lighten and share
the guilt by descending to revenge. He turns aside with a sickness
and loathing, and leaves Nature to purify from the earth the ghastly
phenomenon she abhors.

Old man, that she wilfully deceived thee, that she abused thy belief
and denied to thy question and profaned maidenhood to stealth,--all this
might have galled thee; but to these wrongs old men are subjected,--they
give mirth to our farces; maid and lover are privileged impostors. But
to have counted the sands in thine hour-glass, to have sat by thy side,
marvelling when the worms should have thee, and looked smiling on
thy face for the signs of the death-writ--Die quick, old man; the
executioner hungers for the fee!

There were no tears in those eyes when they came to the close; the
letter fell noiselessly to the floor, and the head sank on the breast,
and the hands drooped upon the poor crippled limbs, whose crawl in the
sunshine hard youth had grudged. He felt humbled, stunned, crushed; the
pride was clean gone from him; the cruel words struck home. Worse than a
cipher, did he then but cumber the earth? At that moment old Ponto, the
setter, shook himself, looked up, and laid his head in his master's lap;
and Dash, jealous, rose also, and sprang, not actively, for Dash was
old, too, upon his knees, and licked the numbed, drooping hands. Now,
people praise the fidelity of dogs till the theme is worn out; but
nobody knows what a dog is, unless he has been deceived by men,--then,
that honest face; then, that sincere caress; then, that coaxing whine
that never lied! Well, then,--what then? A dog is long-lived if he live
to ten years,--small career this to truth and friendship! Now, when Sir
Miles felt that he was not deserted, and his look met those four fond
eyes, fixed with that