t,
looking fagged, and without your hair dressed, and all that. So you go
to bed and I'll go around and--call upon a few friends I made when I
was here before."

Ned had so improved his attire, by acquisitions in New York, Bristol,
and London, that his appearance was now presentable in the haunts of
gentlemen. So he went out, leaving her alone. She could no longer
postpone meditating upon what was before her.

Now that she viewed it for the first time in definite particulars, its
true aspect struck her with a sudden dismay. She was expected to do
nothing less than exhibit herself for sale, put herself up at auction
for the highest bidder, set out her charms as a bait. And when the
bait drew, and the bidders offered, and the buyer awaited--what then?
She would never, her pride alone would never let her, degrade herself
to a position at the very thought of which she caught her breath with
horror. Come what may, the man who purchased her must put the
transaction into the form of marriage. True, she was already married,
in the view of the law; but, with a woman's eye for essentials, she
felt her divorce from Philip already accomplished. The law, she
allowed, would have to be satisfied with matters of form: but that was
a detail to be observed when the time came; Philip would not oppose
obstacles.

So she would let matters take their course, would wait upon
occurrences. In very truth, to put herself on view with intent of
catching a husband, of obtaining an establishment in life, was no more
than young ladies of fashion, of virtue, of piety, did continually,
under the skilled direction of the most estimable mothers. In Madge's
case, the only difference was, on the one side, the excuse of
necessity; on the other side, the encumbrance of her existing
marriage. But the latter could be removed, whereas the former would
daily increase.

She must, therefore, benefit by Ned's operations as long as they did
not threaten to degrade her. By the time they did threaten so, she
would have gained some experience of her own, circumstances would have
arisen which she could turn to her use. Of actual destitution, never
having felt it, she could not conceive; and therefore she did not take
account of its possibility in her case.

So, having recovered from her brief panic, she went to bed and slept
soundly.

The next morning Ned was in jubilant spirits. His visit the previous
night had been to a gaminghouse in Covent Garden, and fortu