t's good for her, I do; and I shall
have my way."

The butler sighed.

"Now, look here, I shall have some words of a sort with my fine
gentleman in the morning."

"No, no, Martha, don't--pray don't; let things be now; we can't alter
them."

"Can't we?" said Mrs Lloyd, viciously--"I'll see about that."

"But, Martha, dear, I'm fifteen years older than you, and if anything
happened it would break my heart--there!" he exclaimed, vehemently.
"I'd sooner go down to Trevass Rocks, and jump off into the sea, and end
it all, than that anything should happen to us now--after all these
years."

Mrs Lloyd did not speak for a few minutes. Then, hearing a voice
downstairs, she opened the door gently, and listened, to make out that
it was only laughter from the smoking-room, and she closed the door once
more.

"If ever there was a coward, Lloyd, you are one," she said, with a
bitter sneer.

"Yes," said the butler. "I suppose I am, for I can't bear the idea of
anything happening now. Then people say we're unnatural to poor
Humphrey."

"Poor Humphrey again!" exclaimed Mrs Lloyd, angrily; "let people talk
about what they understand. I should like for any one to say anything
to me."

"But Martha," said Lloyd, after a pause. "Well?"

"You'll not be rash in the morning--don't peril our position here out of
an angry feeling."

"You go to sleep," was the uncompromising response.

And sighing wearily, the butler did go to sleep, his wife sitting
listening hour after hour till nearly two, when there was the sound of a
door opening, a burst of voices, steps in the hall, "Good nights!"
loudly uttered, Pratt going upstairs to his room, whistling number one
of the Lancers-quadrilles with all his might. Then came the closing of
bedroom doors and silence.

Mrs Lloyd sat for ten minutes more, then, taking her candle, she walked
softly downstairs; went round dining- and drawing-rooms and study,
examining locks, bolts, and shutters, and then went to the butler's
pantry, gave a drag at the handle of the iron plate-closet, to satisfy
herself that all was right there, and lastly made for the smoking-room.

"Like a public-house," she muttered, as she crossed the hall, turned the
handle with a snatch, and threw open the door, to find herself face to
face with Trevor, who was sitting at a table writing a letter.

"Mrs Lloyd!"

"Not gone to bed!"

The couple looked angrily at each other for a few moments, and then
Trevor said,