ht. But he
is mistaken if he thinks I can do nothing. I may as well go up to London
and see for myself whether he is still on his feet to-morrow night. It
is a mere formality, but I will do it. I might have guessed that she
would try to smirch her own name, and the boys through her, if she had
the chance. She will defeat me yet, unless I am careful. Oh, ye gods!
why did I marry a fool who does not even know her own interests? If I
had life over again I would marry a Becky Sharp, any she-devil
incarnate, if only she had brains. One cannot circumvent a fool,
because one can't foresee their line of action. But Miss West, for a
miracle, is safe. She has a lock-and-key face. But she is not for
Scarlett. Did Scarlett tell her himself in an access of moral
spring-cleaning preparatory to matrimony? No. He may have told her that
he had got into trouble with some woman, but not about the drawing of
lots. Whatever his faults are, he has the instincts of a gentleman, and
his mouth is shut. I can trust him like myself there. But she is not for
him. He may think he will marry her, but I draw the line there. Violet
and I have other views for him. He can live, if he wants to, and
apparently he does want to, though whether he will continue to want to
is another question. But he shall not have Rachel. She must marry Dick."

A distant rumbling was heard of the carriage driving under the stable
archway on its way to the front-door.

Lord Newhaven picked up a novel with a mark in it, and left the room. In
the passage he stopped a moment at the foot of the narrow black oak
staircase to the nurseries, which had once been his own nurseries. All
was very silent. He listened, hesitated; his foot on the lowest stair.
The butler came round the corner to announce the carriage.

"I shall be back in four days at furthest," Lord Newhaven said to him,
and turning, went on quickly to the hall, where the piercing night air
came in with the stamping of the impatient horses' hoofs.

A minute later the two listening women up-stairs heard the carriage
drive away into the darkness, and a great silence settled down upon the
house.

CHAPTER XXXIV

"The fool saith, Who would have thought it?"

Winter had brought trouble with it to Warpington Vicarage. A new baby
had arrived, and the old baby was learning, not in silence, what kings
and ministers undergo when they are deposed. Hester had never greatly
cared for the old baby. She was secretly