I'm to be turned out of the house."

"I only say that it would be better not to mention your name to him.
I must go now, because he will be waiting for me."

"He doesn't care a straw for you; not a straw."

"Mr. Greenwood!"

"He cares only for his son and daughter;--for the son and daughter of
his first wife; for those two ignoble young persons who, as you have
said so often, are altogether unworthy of their name."

"Mr. Greenwood, I cannot admit this."

"Have you not said it over and over again? Have you not declared how
good a thing it would be that Lord Hampstead should die? You cannot
go back from all that, Lady Kingsbury."

"I must go now, Mr. Greenwood," she said, shuffling out of the room.
He had altogether frightened her, and, as she went down-stairs, she
determined that at whatever cost she must save herself from further
private conversation with the chaplain.

Mr. Greenwood, when he was thus left alone, did not at once leave the
room. He had reseated himself, and there he remained still gazing as
though there had been some one for him to gaze at, and still seated
on the edge of his chair as though there were some one to see the
affected humility of his position. But in truth the gazing and the
manner of sitting had become so customary to him that they were
assumed without thought. His mind was now full of the injury done
to him by the Marchioness. She had made him her confidant; she had
poured her secret thoughts into his ears; she had done her best to
inspire him with her hatred and her desires;--and now, when she had
almost taught him to be the minister of her wishes, she turned upon
him, and upbraided him and deserted him! Of course when he had
sympathized with her as to her ill-used darlings he had expected her
to sympathize with him as to the hardships inflicted upon him. But
she cared nothing for his hardships, and was anxious to repudiate the
memory of all the hard words which she had spoken as to her husband's
children. It should not be so! She should not escape from him in this
manner! When confidences have been made, the persons making them must
abide the consequences. When a partnership has been formed, neither
partner has a right to retreat at once, leaving the burden of all
debts upon the other. Had not all these thoughts, and plottings,
which had been so heavy on his mind since that telegram had come,
which had been so heavy on his soul, been her doing? Had not the idea
come from her? H