te. What will you? I am not yet enough
English, my friend. We make marriages of convenance in our country,
que diable, and what follows follows; but no scandal afterwards! Do not
adopt our institutions a demi, my friend. Vous ne me comprenez pas non
plus, men pauvre Jack!"

"There is one way still, I think," said the third of the speakers in
this scene. "Let Lord Highgate come to Rosebury in his own name, leaving
that of Mr. Harris behind him. If Sir Barnes Newcome wants you, he can
seek you there. If you will go, as go you should, and God speed you, you
can go, and in your own name, too."

"Parbleu, c'est ca," cries Florac, "he speaks like a book--the
romancier!" I confess, for my part, I thought that a good woman might
plead with him, and touch that manly not disloyal heart now trembling on
the awful balance between evil and good.

"Allons! let us make to come the drague!" cries Florac. "Jack, thou
returnest with us, my friend! Madame Pendennis, an angel, my friend, a
quakre the most charming, shall roucoule to thee the sweetest sermons.
My wife shall tend thee like a mother--a grandmother. Go make thy
packet!"

Lord Highgate was very much pleased and relieved seemingly. He shook our
hands, he said he should never forget our kindness, never! In truth, the
didactic part of our conversation was carried on at much greater length
than as here noted down: and he would come that evening, but not with
us, thank you; he had a particular engagement, some letters he must
write. Those done, he would not fail us, and would be at Rosebury by
dinner-time.

CHAPTER LVIII. "One more Unfortunate"

The Fates did not ordain that the plan should succeed which Lord
Highgate's friends had devised for Lady Clara's rescue or respite. He
was bent upon one more interview with the unfortunate lady; and in that
meeting the future destiny of their luckless lives was decided. On the
morning of his return home, Barnes Newcome had information that Lord
Highgate, under a feigned name, had been staying in the neighbourhood
of his house, and had repeatedly been seen in the company of Lady Clara.
She may have gone out to meet him but for one hour more. She had taken
no leave of her children on the day when she left her home, and, far
from making preparations for her own departure, had been engaged in
getting the house ready for the reception of members of the family,
whose arrival her husband announced as speedily to follow his own. Ethel