hand, but she made no approach to signing
her name with it.

"If my signature pledges me to anything," she said, "surely I have some
claim to know what that pledge is?"

He lifted up the parchment, and struck it angrily on the table.

"Speak out!" he said. "You were always famous for telling the truth.
Never mind Miss Halcombe, never mind Fosco--say, in plain terms, you
distrust me."

The Count took one of his hands out of his belt and laid it on Sir
Percival's shoulder. Sir Percival shook it off irritably. The Count
put it on again with unruffled composure.

"Control your unfortunate temper, Percival," he said "Lady Glyde is
right."

"Right!" cried Sir Percival. "A wife right in distrusting her husband!"

"It is unjust and cruel to accuse me of distrusting you," said Laura.
"Ask Marian if I am not justified in wanting to know what this writing
requires of me before I sign it."

"I won't have any appeals made to Miss Halcombe," retorted Sir
Percival. "Miss Halcombe has nothing to do with the matter."

I had not spoken hitherto, and I would much rather not have spoken now.
But the expression of distress in Laura's face when she turned it
towards me, and the insolent injustice of her husband's conduct, left
me no other alternative than to give my opinion, for her sake, as soon
as I was asked for it.

"Excuse me, Sir Percival," I said--"but as one of the witnesses to the
signature, I venture to think that I HAVE something to do with the
matter. Laura's objection seems to me a perfectly fair one, and
speaking for myself only, I cannot assume the responsibility of
witnessing her signature, unless she first understands what the writing
is which you wish her to sign."

"A cool declaration, upon my soul!" cried Sir Percival. "The next time
you invite yourself to a man's house, Miss Halcombe, I recommend you
not to repay his hospitality by taking his wife's side against him in a
matter that doesn't concern you."

I started to my feet as suddenly as if he had struck me. If I had been
a man, I would have knocked him down on the threshold of his own door,
and have left his house, never on any earthly consideration to enter it
again. But I was only a woman--and I loved his wife so dearly!

Thank God, that faithful love helped me, and I sat down again without
saying a word. SHE knew what I had suffered and what I had suppressed.
She ran round to me, with the tears streaming from her eyes. "Oh,
Marian!" she