me in your heart; why are you so kind to
me?"

"Ah, my good lady," said he with no disclaimer of the accusation, "I
have the honour to be much your husband's friend, and somewhat his
admirer."

"You!" she cried. "They told me you wrote cruelly of both of us."

"Such was the strange path by which we grew acquainted," said Sir John.
"I had written, madam, with particular cruelty (since that shall be the
phrase) of your fair self. Your husband set me at liberty, gave me a
passport, ordered a carriage, and then, with the most boyish spirit,
challenged me to fight. Knowing the nature of his married life, I
thought the dash and loyalty he showed delightful. 'Do not be afraid,'
says he: 'if I am killed there is nobody to miss me.' It appears you
subsequently thought of that yourself. But I digress. I explained to him
it was impossible that I could fight! 'Not if I strike you?' says he.
Very droll; I wish I could have put it in my book. However, I was
conquered, took the young gentleman to my high favour, and tore up my
bits of scandal on the spot. That is one of the little favours, madam,
that you owe your husband."

Seraphina sat for some while in silence. She could bear to be misjudged
without a pang by those whom she contemned; she had none of Otto's
eagerness to be approved, but went her own way straight and head in air.
To Sir John, however, after what he had said, and as her husband's
friend, she was prepared to stoop.

"What do you think of me?" she asked abruptly.

"I have told you already," said Sir John: "I think you want another
glass of my good wine."

"Come," she said, "this is unlike you. You are not wont to be afraid.
You say that you admire my husband: in his name, be honest."

"I admire your courage," said the Baronet. "Beyond that, as you have
guessed, and indeed said, our natures are not sympathetic."

"You spoke of scandal," pursued Seraphina. "Was the scandal great?"

"It was considerable," said Sir John.

"And you believed it?" she demanded.

"O, madam," said Sir John, "the question!"

"Thank you for that answer!" cried Seraphina. "And now here, I will tell
you, upon my honour, upon my soul, in spite of all the scandal in this
world, I am as true a wife as ever stood."

"We should probably not agree upon a definition," observed Sir John.

"O!" she cried, "I have abominably used him--I know that; it is not that
I mean. But if you admire my husband, I insist that you shall understand
me: