or your husband's sudden change of purpose."

"It seems impossible, Marian. If the object of my signing was, as we
suppose, to obtain money for Sir Percival that he urgently wanted, how
can the matter be put off?"

"I think, Laura, we have the means at hand of setting that doubt at
rest. Have you forgotten the conversation that I heard between Sir
Percival and the lawyer as they were crossing the hall?"

"No, but I don't remember----"

"I do. There were two alternatives proposed. One was to obtain your
signature to the parchment. The other was to gain time by giving bills
at three months. The last resource is evidently the resource now
adopted, and we may fairly hope to be relieved from our share in Sir
Percival's embarrassments for some time to come."

"Oh, Marian, it sounds too good to be true!"

"Does it, my love? You complimented me on my ready memory not long
since, but you seem to doubt it now. I will get my journal, and you
shall see if I am right or wrong."

I went away and got the book at once.

On looking back to the entry referring to the lawyer's visit, we found
that my recollection of the two alternatives presented was accurately
correct. It was almost as great a relief to my mind as to Laura's, to
find that my memory had served me, on this occasion, as faithfully as
usual. In the perilous uncertainty of our present situation, it is
hard to say what future interests may not depend upon the regularity of
the entries in my journal, and upon the reliability of my recollection
at the time when I make them.

Laura's face and manner suggested to me that this last consideration
had occurred to her as well as to myself. Anyway, it is only a
trifling matter, and I am almost ashamed to put it down here in
writing--it seems to set the forlornness of our situation in such a
miserably vivid light. We must have little indeed to depend on, when
the discovery that my memory can still be trusted to serve us is hailed
as if it was the discovery of a new friend!

The first bell for dinner separated us. Just as it had done ringing,
Sir Percival and the Count returned from their walk. We heard the
master of the house storming at the servants for being five minutes
late, and the master's guest interposing, as usual, in the interests of
propriety, patience, and peace.

* * * * * * * * * *

The evening has come and gone. No extraordinary event has happened.
But I have noticed