of comfort to her; and Adela would not
now refuse, lest in doing so she might seem to condemn. But she felt
that Caroline Harcourt could never be to her what Caroline Bertram
would have been.

Lady Harcourt did whatever in her lay to amuse her guest; but Adela
was one who did not require much amusing. Had there been friendship
between her and her friend, the month would have run by all too
quickly; but, as it was, before it was over she wished herself again
even at Littlebath.

Bertram dined there twice, and once went with them to some concert.
He met them in the Park, and called; and then there was a great
evening gathering in Eaton Square, and he was there. Caroline was
careful on all occasions to let her husband know when she met
Bertram, and he as often, in some shape, expressed his satisfaction.

"He'll marry Adela Gauntlet; you'll see if he does not," he said to
her, after one of their dinners in Eaton Square. "She is very pretty,
very; and it will be all very nice; only I wish that one of them had
a little money to go on with."

Caroline answered nothing to this: she never did make him any
answers; but she felt quite sure in her own heart that he would not
marry Adela Gauntlet. And had she confessed the truth to herself,
would she have wished him to do so?

Adela saw and disapproved; she saw much and could not but disapprove
of all. She saw that there was very little sympathy between the
husband and wife, and that that little was not on the increase.--Very
little! nay, but was there any? Caroline did not say much of her lot
in life; but the few words that did fall from her seemed to be full
of scorn for all that she had around her, and for him who had given
it all. She seemed to say, "There--this is that for which I have
striven--these ashes on which I now step, and sleep, and feed, which
are gritty between my teeth, and foul to my touch! See, here is my
reward! Do you not honour me for having won it?"

And then it appeared that Sir Henry Harcourt had already learned how
to assume the cross brow of a captious husband; that the sharp word
was already spoken on light occasions--spoken without cause and
listened to with apparent indifference. Even before Adela such words
were spoken, and then Caroline would smile bitterly, and turn her
face towards her friend, as though she would say, "See, see what it
is to be the wife of so fine a man, so great a man! What a grand
match have I not made for myself!" But tho