et Tristram coming from his room,
with his shooting boots on, ready to start. He stopped and said
coldly--they had not spoken a word yet that day--

"You had better be quick putting your things on. My uncle always starts
punctually."

Then his eye caught the foreign writing on the letter, and he turned
brusquely away, although, as he reasoned with himself a moment
afterwards, it was ridiculous of him to be so moved, because she would
naturally have a number of foreign correspondents. She saw him turn
away, and it angered her in spite of her new mood. He need not show his
dislike so plainly, she thought. So she answered haughtily,

"I had not intended to come. I am tired; and I do not know this sport,
or whether it will please me. I should feel for the poor birds, I
expect."

"I am sorry you are tired," he answered, contrite in an instant. "Of
course, you must not come if you are. They will be awfully disappointed.
But never mind. I will tell Ethelrida."

"It is nothing--my fatigue, I mean. If you think your cousin will mind,
I will come." And she turned, without waiting for him to answer, and
went on to her room.

And Tristram, after going back to his for something he had forgotten,
presently went on down the stairs, a bitter smile on his face, and at
the bottom met--Laura Highford.

She looked up into his eyes, and allowed tears to gather in hers. She
had always plenty at her command.

"Tristram," she said with extreme gentleness, "you were cross with me
yesterday afternoon, because you thought I was saying something about
your wife. But don't you know, can't you understand, what it is to me to
see you devoted to another woman? You may be changed, but I am always
the same, and I--I--" And here she buried her face in her hands and went
into a flood of tears.

Tristram was overcome with confusion and horror. He loathed scenes.
Good heavens! If any one should come along!

"Laura, for goodness' sake! My dear girl, don't cry!" he exclaimed. He
felt he would say anything to comfort her, and get over the chance of
some one seeing this hateful exhibition.

But she continued to sob. She had caught sight of Zara's figure on the
landing above, and her vengeful spirit desired to cause trouble, even at
a cost to herself. Zara had been perfectly ready, all but her hat, and
had hurried exceedingly to be in time, and thus had not been five
minutes after her husband.

"Tristram!" wailed Laura, and, putting up her hands,