crape at any expense of
mendacity, but he saw at once how useless such an attempt would
prove. Exasperated by the result of his indiscretion, and resenting,
as all men do, the undignified necessity of defending himself, he
flew into a rage. Yes, it _was_ true, and what next? The girl had
waylaid him, begged him to intercede for her with his wife. Of
course it would have been better to come home and reveal the matter;
he didn't do so because it seemed to put him in a silly position.
For Heaven's sake, let the whole absurd business be forgotten and
done with!

Emmeline, though not sufficiently enlightened to be above small
jealousies, would have been ashamed to declare her feeling with the
energy of unsophisticated female nature. She replied coldly and
loftily that the matter, of course, _was_ done with; that it
interested her no more; but that she could not help regretting an
instance of secretiveness such as she had never before discovered in
her husband. Surely he had put himself in a much sillier position,
as things turned out, than if he had followed the dictates of
honour.

'The upshot of it is this,' cried Mumford: 'Miss Derrick has to
leave the house, and, if necessary, I shall tell her so myself.'

Again Emmeline was cold and lofty. There was no necessity whatever
for any further communication between Clarence and Miss Derrick. Let
the affair be left entirely in her hands. Indeed, she must very
specially request that Clarence would have nothing more to do with
Miss Derrick's business. Whereupon Mumford took offence. Did
Emmeline wish to imply that there had been anything improper in his
behaviour beyond the paltry indiscretion to which he had confessed?
No; Emmeline was thankful to say that she did not harbour base
suspicions. Then, rejoined Mumford, let this be the last word of a
difference as hateful to him as to her. And he left the room.

His wife did not linger more than a minute behind him, and she sat
in the drawing-room to await Miss Derrick's return; Mumford kept
apart in what was called the library. To her credit, Emmeline tried
hard to believe that she had learnt the whole truth; her mind, as
she had justly declared, was not prone to ignoble imaginings; but
acquitting her husband by no means involved an equal charity towards
Louise. Hitherto uncertain in her judgment, she had now the relief
of an assurance that Miss Derrick was not at all a proper person to
entertain as a guest, on whatever terms