give me?" he said.

"And Marston," she answered.

"Well, I will accept the condescension--that is, if the terms of it are
to my mind."

"I will make no terms. Marston may return when she pleases."

"You must write and ask her."

"Of course, Mr. Redmain. It would hardly be suitable that _you_ should
ask her."

"You must write so as to make it possible to accept your offer."

"I am not deceitful, Mr. Redmain."

"You are not. A man must be fair, even to his wife."

"I will show you the letter I write."

"If you please."

She had to show him half a score ere he was satisfied, declaring he
would do it himself, if she could not make a better job of it.

At length one was dispatched, received, and answered: Mary would not
return. She had lost all hope of being of any true service to Mrs.
Redmain, and she knew that, with Tom and Letty, she was really of use
for the present. Mrs. Redmain carried the letter, with ill-concealed
triumph, to her husband; nor did he conceal his annoyance.

"You must have behaved to her very cruelly," he said. "But you have
done your best now--short of a Christian apology, which it would be
folly to demand of you. I fear we have seen the last of her."--"And
there was I," he said to himself, "for the first time in my life,
actually beginning to fancy I had perhaps thrown salt upon the tail of
that rare bird, an honest woman! The devil has had quite as much to do
with my history as with my character! Perhaps that will be taken into
the account one day."

But Mary lay awake at night, and thought of many things she might have
said and done better when she was with Hesper, and would gladly have
given herself another chance; but she could no longer flatter herself
she would ever be of any real good to her. She believed there was more
hope of Mr. Redmain even. For had she not once, for one brief moment,
seen him look a trifle ashamed of himself? while Hesper was and
remained, so far as she could judge, altogether satisfied with herself.
Equal to her own demands upon herself, there was nothing in her to
begin with--no soil to work upon.

CHAPTER XLVII.

ANOTHER CHANGE.

For some time Tom made progress toward health, and was able to read a
good part of the day. Most evenings he asked Joseph to play to him for
a while; he was fond of music, and fonder still of criticism--upon
anything. When he had done with Joseph, or when he did not want him,
Mary was always ready to give the lat