er own welfare. To allow herself to become in
love with a husband who was answerable to her for his very food and
lodging, and whom she could punish and keep in bondage when she pleased,
was quite a different matter to experiencing that emotion towards an
imperious, independent creature going his own way, and even, perhaps,
compelling her to conform to his.

"How stupid of the old man, Mr. Scroope, to have married so late!" she
said to herself, as usual finding everyone wrong who in any way
interfered with her wishes.

John Derringham's letters--only two a week she received from him--were
his usual masterpieces of style, and in them he employed his skill to
say everything--and nothing.

She felt pleased as she read, and then resentful when she thought over
them. He had never once used a word of personal endearment, although the
letters were beautifully expressed. He seemed most happy and comfortable
with Arabella. After all, perhaps she would not go and stay with Prince
Brunemetz at Brudenstein. She might make John come out and join her and
go on to St. Moritz--that would do him good. She could wire for
Arabella. The _convenances_ were so dear to her. The wedding should take
place in October, she decided.

And two days after John Derringham had arrived in London at his old
rooms in Duke Street, she wrote and suggested this plan to him--and then
the first preliminary crossing of swords between them happened. He
answered that he would come and join her later, but until the session
was over he could not leave town, and he begged her to go and stay with
Prince Brunemetz, or do anything else which would amuse her. He was
still upon crutches, he said, and not fitted to be a cavalier to any
lady.

She shut her mouth with a snap, and, sitting down, wrote a long letter
to Mr. Hanbury-Green, with whom she kept up a brisk correspondence. Very
well, then! she would go to Brudenstein; she would not martyrize herself
by being with a man on crutches! So half of her August passed in a most
agreeable manner, and towards the end of the month she summoned her
_fiance_ to Florence. He could walk with a stick now--and to meet her
there and go on to Venice and out to the Lido would be quite delightful,
and could not hurt him. She deserved some attention after this long
time!

The end of the session had come, and still the Government hung on, but
it was obvious that they had been so much discredited that the end could
not be long post