butterflies of the season. She had
aggressively emphasised the difference between his social tastes and
hers. He bore with it temporarily, till he could elaborate a plan of
campaign. Now the plan had formed itself in most unhoped completeness,
and he was happy.

'What did you want with that fellow?' he asked, coldly.

'Mr. Egremont is going to America, and I wanted to say good-bye to him.
He was my friend long before I knew you.'

She rose, and would have gone; but he stopped her with a gentle hand.

'Paula, this is very unsatisfactory.'

'What do you want? What am I to do?'

'To sit down and listen. As I have such very grave grounds for
distrusting you, I can only pursue one course. I must claim your entire
obedience to certain commands I am now going to detail. Refusal will,
of course, drive me to the most painful extremities.'

'What do you want?'

'To-morrow you were to give your last dinner-party. You will at once
send a notice to all your guests that you are ill and cannot receive
them.'

'Absurd! How can I do such a thing?'

'You will do it. We spoke of going to Scotland with the Scalpers.
Instead of that, you accompany me to Manchester when Parliament rises,
and you live with me there in retirement whilst I am occupied with my
study of the factory questions which immediately interest me.'

Paula was silent.

'These are my commands. The alternative to obedience is--you know what.
Pray let me know your decision.'

'Why do you behave to me in this way? What have I done to be treated
like this?'

'Pray do not ask me. I wait for your answer.'

'I can only give in to you, and you're coward enough to take advantage
of it.'

'You undertake to obey me?'

'I want to go to my room. Can I do so without asking?'

'You are mistress of my house, Paula, as long as you obey me in
essential matters.'

Paula disappeared, and Mr. Dalmaine sat reflecting with much
self-approbation on the firmness and suavity he had displayed.

CHAPTER XXXI

AN OLD MAN'S REST

It was not without much reluctance, much debate with conscience, that
Bunce allowed his child to remain at Eastbourne. He could not, of
course, have finally refused consent to a plan which might be the means
of saving Bessie's life, and to be relieved of the cost of her support,
receiving into the bargain a small monthly sum which Mrs. Ormonde
represented as the value to her of Bessie's services at The Chestnuts,
was a great consideration