thout his wife, and when she came she brought Mrs. Mackenzie with her.

CHAPTER LXXV. Founder's Day at the Grey Friars

Rosey came, bringing discord and wretchedness with her to her husband,
and the sentence of death or exile to his dear old father, all of
which we foresaw--all of which Clive's friends would have longed to
prevent--all of which were inevitable under the circumstances. Clive's
domestic affairs were often talked over by our little set. Warrington
and F. B. knew of his unhappiness. We three had strongly opined that
the women being together at Boulogne, should stay there and live there,
Clive sending them over pecuniary aid as his means permitted. "They must
hate each other pretty well by this time," growls George Warrington.
"Why on earth should they not part?" "What a woman that Mrs. Mackenzie
is!" cries F. B. "What an infernal tartar and catamaran! She who was
so uncommonly smiling and soft-spoken, and such a fine woman, by
jingo! What puzzles all women are!" F. B. sighed, and drowned further
reflection in beer.

On the other side, and most strongly advocating Rosey's return to Clive,
was Mrs. Laura Pendennis; with certain arguments for which she had
chapter and verse, and against which we of the separatist party had no
appeal. "Did he marry her only for the days of her prosperity?" asked
Laura. "Is it right, is it manly, that he should leave her now she
is unhappy--poor little creature--no woman had ever more need of
protection; and who should be her natural guardian save her husband?
Surely, Arthur, you forget--have you forgotten them yourself, sir?--the
solemn vows which Clive made at the altar. Is he not bound to his wife
to keep only unto her so long as they both shall live, to love and
comfort her, honour her, and keep her in sickness and health?"

"To keep her, yes--but not to keep the Campaigner," cries Mr. Pendennis.
"It is a moral bigamy, Laura, which you advocate, you wicked, immoral
young woman!"

But Laura, though she smiled at this notion, would not be put off from
her first proposition. Turning to Clive, who was with us, talking over
his doleful family circumstances, she took his hand, and pleaded the
cause of right and religion with sweet artless fervour. She agreed with
us that it was a hard lot for Clive to bear. So much the nobler the
task, and the fulfilment of duty in enduring it. A few months too would
put an end to his trials. When his child was born Mrs. Mackenzie woul