MATTHEW ARNOLD.

Michael was trying to frame a suitable reply to this speech, that was at
once so tragic and hopeless, when Mat suddenly turned to him and said,
in a strangely altered voice:

'I want you to tell me one thing, sir. Why does she call herself Blake?'

'I am afraid I cannot enlighten you on that point,' returned Michael,
after a moment's consideration; 'probably it was the first name that
occurred to her. You will allow that it is short and handy, and that it
is by no means conspicuous.' But this answer did not seem to satisfy
Matthew O'Brien. An uneasy, almost suspicious look came into his eyes.

'I suppose it does not mean,' he continued, hesitating over his words,
'that she--Olive--has put herself under another man's protection?'

'Good heavens, O'Brien!' exclaimed Michael, in a shocked voice. 'How can
you wrong your wife so? With all her sins, I do not believe she is that
sort of woman.'

'You mistake me, sir,' returned Mat doggedly. 'And, in a way, you
mistake Olive too. She has not got the notions of other women. She would
not think things wrong that would horrify other folk. When she gave me
up, she said that she should consider herself free, and she might even
make it straight with her conscience to marry another man, who would be
a better protector to her and the children. I do not say Olive has done
this. But if it be so, by the powers above, Captain Burnett, I will
have the law of her there! So let her and the other fellow look out for
themselves!'

'There is no need to excite yourself so, O'Brien. Your wife is too much
a woman of the world to get herself into that sort of trouble. Her love
for her eldest son is her master passion. And I do not suppose she has
even given a thought to another man.'

'I am glad to hear it, Captain. But Olive has fooled me once, and I
doubted but she might have done it again. Perhaps you may not have heard
it, but she would never have married me if Darrell--Major Darrell, he
was--had not jilted her. She told me once, to spite me, that she
worshipped the ground the fellow trod on. And he was a cad--confound
him!--one of those light-hearted gentry who dance with girls and make
love to them, and then boast of their conquests. But he had a way with
him, and she never cared for anyone again. She has told me so again and
again in her tantrums.'

'My poor fellow,' returned Michael pityingly, 'you may at least be easy
on one point. Mrs. Blake