by her husband's threat
than by his base ingratitude to herself and by the accusation he seemed
to make against her. Worn out with the emotions of fear and anxiety, she
had barely the strength to close and fasten the window. Then she sank
into the first chair she could find in the dark and stared into the
blackness around her. It seemed indeed more than she could bear. She was
placed in the terrible position of being obliged to betray her fugitive
husband, or of living in constant fear lest he should murder the best
friend she had in the world.

CHAPTER XVI.

On the morning after the events last described Mr. Ambrose sat at
breakfast opposite his wife. The early post had just arrived, bringing
the usual newspaper and two letters.

"Any news, my dear?" inquired Mrs. Ambrose with great suavity, as she
rinsed her teacup in the bowl preparatory to repeating the dose. "Is not
it time that we should hear from John?"

"There is a letter from him, strange to say. Wait a minute--my dear, the
Tripos is over and he wants to know if he may stop here--"

"The Tripos over already! How has he done? Do tell me, Augustin!"

"He does not know," returned the vicar, quickly looking over the
contents of the letter. "The lists are not out--he thinks he has done
very well--he has had a hint that he is high up--wants to know whether he
may stop on his way to London--he is going to see his father--"

"Of course he shall come," said Mrs. Ambrose with enthusiasm. "He must
stop here till the lists are published and then we shall know--anything
else?"

"The other is a note from a tutor of his side--my old friend Brown--he is
very enthusiastic; says it is an open secret that John will be at the
head of the list--begins to congratulate. Well, my dear, this is very
satisfactory, very flattering."

"One might say very delightful, Augustin."

"Delightful, yes quite delightful," replied the vicar, burying his long
nose in his teacup.

"I only hope it may be true. I was afraid that perhaps John had done
himself harm by coming here at Christmas. Young men are so very
light-headed, are they not, Augustin?" added Mrs. Ambrose with a prim
smile. On rare occasions she had alluded to John's unfortunate passion
for Mrs. Goddard, and when she spoke of the subject she had a tendency to
assume something of the stiffness she affected towards strangers. As has
been seen she had ceased to blame Mrs. Goddard. Generally speaking the
absent are in