disease, chiefly because most of the people she came in contact with had
a direct pecuniary interest in depraving and poisoning her. Aye, look at
her! with the cross on her breast, the virgin mother in plaster looking
on from where she kept her mirror when she was alive, and the people
outside complacently saying 'Serve her right!'"

Marian feared for a moment that he would demolish Eliza's altar by
hurling the chair through it. "Dont, Ned," she said, timidly, putting
her hand on his arm.

"Dont what?" he said, taken aback. She drew her hand away and retreated
a step, coloring at the wifely liberty she had permitted herself to
take. "I beg your pardon. I thought--I thought you were going to take
the cross away. No," she added quickly, seeing him about to speak, and
anticipating a burst of scepticism: "it is not that; but the servant is
an Irish girl--a Roman Catholic. She put it there; and she meant well,
and will be hurt if it is thrown aside."

"And you think it better that she should remain in ignorance of what
educated people think about her superstition than that she should suffer
the mortification of learning that her opinions are not those of all
the world! However, I had no such intention. Eliza's idol is a
respectable one as idols go."

There was a pause. Then Marian said: "It must have been a great shock to
you when you came and found what had happened. I am very sorry. But had
we not better go downrs? It seems so unfeeling, somehow, to talk
without minding her. I suppose you consider that foolish; but I think
you are upset by it yourself."

"You see a change in me, then?"

"You are not quite yourself, I think."

"I tell you again that I _am_ myself at last. You do not seem to like
the real man any better than the unreal: I am afraid you will not have
me on any terms. Well, let us go downstairs, since you prefer it."

"Oh, not unless you wish it too," said Marian, a little bewildered.

He took her candle and led the way out without another word or a look at
the bed. Marian, as he stood aside to let her go downstairs before him,
was suddenly seized with a fantastic fear that he was going to kill her.
She did not condescend to hurry or look back; but she only felt safe
when they were in her room, and he no longer behind her.

"Sit down," he said, placing the candle on the mantelpiece. She sat down
at the table, and he stood on the hearthrug. "Now," said he, "about the
future. Are you coming back? Wil