listen to me."

"Ulfar has five senses. Ulfar is very fond of himself. He will leave
Redware, of course. How handsome Brune Anneys is!"

"Will you coax him to leave to-night?"

"Ulfar? Yes, I will; for it is the proper thing for him to do. It
would be a shame to bring his quarrels to your house.--What a splendid
rider! Look, Elizabeth, he is just topping the hill! I do believe he
turned his head! Is he not handsome? Apollo! Antinoues! Pshaw! Brune
Anneys is a great deal more human, and a great deal more godlike, than
either."

"Do not be silly, Sarah. And do occupy yourself a little with Ulfar
now."

"When the hour comes, I will. Ulfar is evidently occupying himself at
present in watching his wife. There is a decorous naughtiness and a
stimulating sense of danger about seeing Aspatria, that must be a
thorough enjoyment to Ulfar."

"Men are always in fusses. Ulfar has kept my heart palpitating ever
since he could walk alone."

Sarah sighed. "It is very difficult," she said, "to decide whether
very old men or very young men can be the greater trial. The suffering
both can cause is immense! Poor Sandys was sixty-six, and Ulfar is
thirty-six, and--" She shook her head, and sighed again.

"How hateful country-people are!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "They must
talk, no matter what tragedy they cause with their scandalous words."

"Are they worse than our own set, either in town or country? You know
what the Countess of Denbigh considered pleasant conversation?--telling
things that ought not to be told."

"The Countess is a wretch! she would tell the most sacred of
secrets."

"I tell secrets also. I do not consider it wrong. What business has
any one to throw the _onus_ of keeping their secret on my shoulders?
Why should they expect from me more prudence than they themselves have
shown?"

"That is true. But in these valleys they speak so uncomfortably
direct; nothing but the strongest, straightest, most definite words
will be used."

"That is a pity. People ought to send scandal through society in a
respectable hunt-the-slipper form of circulation. But that is a kind
of decency to be cultivated. However, I shall tell Ulfar, in the
plainest words I can find, that there will be about sixty Cumberland
squires here to-morrow, to ride with him out of the county, and that
they are looking forward to the fun of it just as much as if it was a
fox-hunt. Ulfar has imagination. He will be able to conceive such a
ride,--the