ll you have, and not me; nor aught of me
but my contempt."

But she could not carry it off as heretofore. She turned her back
haughtily on him; but, at the first step, she burst out crying, "Come,
and I'll give you what you are come for," she sobbed. "Ungrateful!
heartless! O, how little I knew this man!"

She crept away before him, drooping her head, and crying bitterly; and
he followed her, hanging his head, and ill at ease; for there was such
true passion in her voice, her streaming eyes, and indeed in her whole
body, that he was moved, and the part he was playing revolted him. He
felt confused and troubled, and asked himself how on earth it was that
she, the guilty one, contrived to appear the injured one, and made him,
the wronged one, feel almost remorseful.

* * * * *

Mrs. Gaunt took no more notice of him now than if he had been a dog
following at her heels. She went into the drawing-room, and sank
helplessly on the nearest couch, threw her head wearily back, and shut
her eyes. Yet the tears trickled through the closed lids.

Griffith caught up a hand-bell, and rang it vigorously.

Quick, light steps were soon heard pattering; and in darted Caroline
Ryder, with an anxious face; for of late she had conceived a certain
sober regard for her mistress, who had ceased to be her successful
rival, and who bore her grief _like a man_.

At sight of Griffith, Ryder screamed aloud, and stood panting.

Mrs. Gaunt opened her eyes. "Ay, child, he has come home," said she,
bitterly; "his body, but not his heart."

She stretched her hand out feebly, and pointed to a bottle of salts that
stood on the table. Ryder ran and put them to her nostrils. Mrs. Gaunt
whispered in her ear, "Send a swift horse for Father Francis; tell him
life or death!"

Ryder gave her a very intelligent look, and presently slipped out, and
ran into the stable-yard.

At the gate she caught sight of Griffith's horse. What does this
quick-witted creature do but send the groom off on that horse, and not
on Mrs. Gaunt's.

* * * * *

"Now, Dame," said Griffith, doggedly, "are you better?"

"Ay, I thank you."

"Then listen to me. When you and I set up house together, I had two
thousand pounds. I spent it on this house. The house is yours. You told
me so, one day, you know."

"Ah, you can remember my faults."

"I remember all, Kate."

"Thank you, at least, for calling me Kate. We