e prospect unless--she started a little. She had
forgotten what she had meant to ask him; she had not inquired about his
visit to the doctor nor told him that kind Lady Mildmay was anxious about
his health. It had all been driven out of her head, she said to herself
in excuse at first. Then she faced her feelings more boldly. Just then
she could have put no such questions, feigned no such interest, and
assumed no show of affection or solicitude. That evening such things
would have been mere hypocrisy, pretences of a desire to keep him for
herself when her whole nature was in revolt at having to be near him. Her
horror now was not that she might lose him, but of the prospect that lay
before her and the road she must tread with him. Trodden it must be;
unless by any chance there were truth, or less than the truth, in what
good Lady Mildmay said.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE IRREVOCABLE.

So far as May Quisante's distress had its rise in her husband's treatment
of Sir Winterton Mildmay, she was entitled to take some comfort from that
gentleman's extreme happiness. He had lost a seat in Parliament, thanks
to Tom Sinnett and the account to which Tom Sinnett had been turned; he
had been caused to represent to the world that the Alethea Printing Press
had lost Professor Maturin's express approval only by the accident of the
Professor's lamented decease. The one wrong he forgot, the other he did
not know. It was a favourite tenet of his that an English gentleman ought
to be able to turn his hand to everything--everything honourable, of
course--and should at once shine in any sphere of practical activity. He
saw the triumph of his opinion, and found his own delight, in his new
part of a business man. His brougham rolled down to Dowgate Hill almost
every day; he delighted to lunch with Mandeville or to entertain the
Secretary of the Company at the midday meal; business could be made to
last till three when there was no Board, till four if there were; then
Sir Winterton drove to his club and sat down to his cards with a rich
consciousness of commercial importance. He believed in the Alethea with a
devotion and a thoroughness second only to the unquestioning faith and
obedience which he now had at the service of Alexander Quisante. Many an
amazed secret stare and many a sour smile his eulogies drew from cousin
Mandeville; for even in his enthusiasm Sir Winterton praised with
d