its on hearing that nothing more was to be done, and, although he
left the Hall with a handsome present, he left it discontentedly.

"Such a pretty case, William," says he, quite sorrowfully, as we shook
hands--"such an uncommonly pretty case--it's a thousand pities to stop
it, in this way, before it's half over!"

"You don't know what a proud lady and what a delicate lady my mistress
is," I answered. "She would die rather than expose her forlorn situation
in a public court for the sake of punishing her husband."

"Bless your simple heart!" says Mr. Dark, "do you really think, now,
that such a case as this can be hushed up?"

"Why not," I asked, "if we all keep the secret?"

"That for the secret!" cries Mr. Dark, snapping his fingers. "Your
master will let the cat out of the bag, if nobody else does."

"My master!" I repeated, in amazement.

"Yes, your master!" says Mr. Dark. "I have had some experience in my
time, and I say you have not seen the last of him yet. Mark my words,
William, Mr. James Smith will come back."

With that prophecy, Mr. Dark fretfully treated himself to a last pinch
of snuff, and departed in dudgeon on his journey back to his master in
London. His last words hung heavily on my mind for days after he had
gone. It was some weeks before I got over a habit of starting whenever
the bell was rung at the front door.

CHAPTER IV.

OUR life at the Hall soon returned to its old, dreary course. The lawyer
in London wrote to my mistress to ask her to come and stay for a little
while with his wife; but she declined the invitation, being averse to
facing company after what had happened to her. Though she tried hard
to keep the real state of her mind concealed from all about her, I,
for one, could see plainly enough that she was pining under the bitter
injury that had been inflicted on her. What effect continued solitude
might have had on her spirits I tremble to think.

Fortunately for herself, it occurred to her, before long, to send and
invite Mr. Meeke to resume his musical practicing with her at the Hall.
She told him--and, as it seemed to me, with perfect truth--that any
implied engagement which he had made with Mr. James Smith was now
canceled, since the person so named had morally forfeited all his claims
as a husband, first, by his desertion of her, and, secondly, by his
criminal marriage with another woman. After stating this view of
the matter, she left it to Mr. Meeke to decide wheth