while into his own hands, and thus more than one reached him
from Lord Brentford's lawyer, demanding that restitution should be
made of the interest arising from Lady Laura's fortune. Then he would
fly out into bitter wrath, calling his wife foul names, and swearing
that she should never have a farthing of his money to spend upon her
paramour. Of course it was his money, and his only. All the world
knew that. Had she not left his roof, breaking her marriage vows,
throwing aside every duty, and bringing him down to his present state
of abject misery? Her own fortune! If she wanted the interest of her
wretched money, let her come to Loughlinter and receive it there. In
spite of all her wickedness, her cruelty, her misconduct, which had
brought him,--as he now said,--to the verge of the grave, he would
still give her shelter and room for repentance. He recognised his
vows, though she did not. She should still be his wife, though she
had utterly disgraced both herself and him. She should still be his
wife, though she had so lived as to make it impossible that there
should be any happiness in their household.

It was thus he spoke when first one and then another letter came
from the Earl's lawyer, pointing out to him the injustice to which
Lady Laura was subjected by the loss of her fortune. No doubt these
letters would not have been written in the line assumed had not Mr.
Kennedy proved himself to be unfit to have the custody of his wife
by attempting to shoot the man whom he accused of being his wife's
lover. An act had been done, said the lawyer, which made it quite out
of the question that Lady Laura should return to her husband. To
this, when speaking of the matter to those around him,--which he did
with an energy which seemed to be foreign to his character,--Mr.
Kennedy made no direct allusion; but he swore most positively that
not a shilling should be given up. The fear of policemen coming down
to Loughlinter to take account of that angry shot had passed away;
and, though he knew, with an uncertain knowledge, that he was not in
all respects obeyed as he used to be,--that his orders were disobeyed
by stewards and servants, in spite of his threats of dismissal,--he
still felt that he was sufficiently his own master to defy the Earl's
attorney and to maintain his claim upon his wife's person. Let her
return to him first of all!

But after a while the cousin interfered still further; and Robert
Kennedy, who so short a t