wife would die without Bebi," he said.
"She becomes quite dangerous about Bebi." It was gratifying that the
good old lady was not to be parted as yet from the innocent object of
her love.

My host knew as well as I the terms upon which Sir Barnes and his wife
were living. Their quarrels were the talk of the whole county; one side
brought forward his treatment of her, and his conduct elsewhere, and
said that he was so bad that honest people should not know him. The
other party laid the blame upon her, and declared that Lady Clara was a
languid, silly, weak, frivolous creature; always crying out of season;
who had notoriously taken Sir Barnes for his money and who as certainly
had had an attachment elsewhere. Yes, the accusations were true on both
sides. A bad, selfish husband had married a woman for her rank: a weak,
thoughtless girl had been sold to a man for his money; and the union,
which might have ended in a complete indifference, had taken an ill turn
and resulted in misery, cruelty, fierce mutual recriminations, bitter
tears shed in private, husband's curses and maledictions, and open
scenes of wrath and violence for servants to witness and the world to
sneer at. We arrange such matches every day; we sell or buy beauty, or
rank, or wealth; we inaugurate the bargain in churches with sacramental
services, in which the parties engaged call upon Heaven to witness their
vows--we know them to be lies, and we seal them with God's name. "I,
Barnes, promise to take you, Clara, to love and honour till death do
us part" "I Clara, promise to take you, Barnes," etc, etc. Who has not
heard the ancient words; and how many of us have uttered them, knowing
them to be untrue: and is there a bishop on the bench that has not
amen'd the humbug in his lawn sleeves and called a blessing over the
kneeling perjurers?

"Does Mr. Harris know of Newcome's return?" Florac asked, when I
acquainted him with this intelligence. "Ce scelerat de Highgate--Va!"

"Does Newcome know that Lord Highgate is here?" I thought within myself,
admiring my wife's faithfulness and simplicity, and trying to believe
with that pure and guileless creature that it was not yet too late to
save the unhappy Lady Clara.

"Mr. Harris had best be warned," I said to Florac; "will you write him a
word, and let us send a messenger to Newcome?"

At first Florac said, "Parbleu! No;" the affair was none of his, he
attended himself always to this result of Lady Clara's mar