't_ believe it," and
she stamped her foot passionately, "I _can't_ believe it! . . . and yet
everybody says that you go to see a dreadful, painted dancing woman at
the theatre, and that you like her better than the Froeken,--it _isn't_
true, is it?" Here she peered anxiously at her master--but he was
absolutely silent. Neville made as though he would speak, but a gesture
from Sir Philip's hand restrained him. Britta went on rather
dispiritedly, "Anyhow, Briggs has just told me that only yesterday Lady
Winsleigh went all by herself to see this actress, and that she got some
letter there which she brought to the Froeken--" she recoiled suddenly
with a little scream. "Oh, Sir Philip!--where are you going?"

Errington's hand came down on her shoulder, as he twisted her lightly
out of his path and strode to the door.

"Sir Philip--Sir Philip!" cried Neville anxiously, hastening after him.
"Think for a moment; don't do anything rash!" Philip wrung his hand
convulsively. "Rash! My good fellow, it's a _woman_ who has slandered
me--what _can_ I do? Her sex protects her!" He gave a short, furious
laugh. "But--by God!--were she a man I'd shoot her dead!"

And with these words, and his eyes blazing with wrath, he left the room.
Neville and Britta confronted each other in vague alarm.

"Where will he go?" half whispered Britta.

"To Winsleigh House, I suppose," answered Neville in the same low tone.

Just then the hall door shut with a loud bang, that echoed through the
silent house.

"He's gone!" and as Neville said this he sighed and looked dubiously at
his companion. "How do you know all this about Lady Winsleigh, Britta?
It may not be true--it's only servants' gossip."

"Only servants' gossip!" exclaimed Britta. "And is that nothing? Why, in
these grand houses like Lord Winsleigh's, the servants know everything!
Briggs makes it his business to listen at the doors--he says it's a part
of his duty. And Louise opens all her mistress's letters--she says she
owes it to her own respectability to know what sort of a lady it is she
serves. And she's going to leave, because she says her ladyship _isn't_
respectable! There! what do you think of that! And Sir Philip will find
out a great deal more than even _I_ have told him--but oh! I _can't_
understand about that actress!" And she shook her head despairingly.

"Britta," said Neville suddenly, "That actress is my wife!"

Britta started,--and her round eyes opened wide.

"Your