bly-born, highly-bred, irreproachable aunt now stood revealed before
me as one! An older woman than I might have been hard put to it to
preserve her presence of mind, in such a position as mine. Instinct,
not reason, served me in my sore need. Instinct, not reason, kept me
passively and stupidly silent when I got back to the house. "We will
talk about it to-morrow," was all I could say to Michael, when he gently
lifted me from my horse.

I excused myself from appearing at the luncheon-table; and I drew down
the blinds in my sitting-room, so that my face might not betray me when
Lady Claudia's maternal duty brought her upstairs to make inquiries. The
same excuse served in both cases--my ride had failed to relieve me of
my headache. My aunt's brief visit led to one result which is worth
mentioning. The indescribable horror of her that I felt forced the
conviction on my mind that we two could live no longer under the same
roof. While I was still trying to face this alternative with the
needful composure, my uncle presented himself, in some anxiety about
my continued illness. I should certainly have burst out crying, when the
kind and dear old man condoled with me, if he had not brought news with
him which turned back all my thoughts on myself and my aunt. Michael had
shown the General his letter and had given notice to leave. Lady Claudia
was present at the time. To her husband's amazement, she abruptly
interfered with a personal request to Michael to think better of it, and
to remain in his place!

"I should not have troubled you, my dear, on this unpleasant subject,"
said my uncle, "if Michael had not told me that you were aware of the
circumstances under which he feels it his duty to leave us. After your
aunt's interference (quite incomprehensible to me), the man hardly
knows what to do. Being your groom, he begs me to ask if there is any
impropriety in his leaving the difficulty to your decision. I tell you
of his request, Mina; but I strongly advise you to decline taking any
responsibility on yourself."

I answered mechanically, accepting my uncle's suggestion, while my
thoughts were wholly absorbed in this last of the many extraordinary
proceedings on Lady Claudia's part since Michael had entered the house.
There are limits--out of books and plays--to the innocence of a young
unmarried woman. After what I had just heard the doubts which had thus
far perplexed me were suddenly and completely cleared up. I said to my