he induced Mrs Yeld, the Bishop's wife, to invite
her down to the palace. Hetta accepted the invitation and left London
before she could hear the tidings of her mother's engagement with Mr
Broune.

Roger Carbury had not yielded in this matter,--had not brought himself
to determine that he would recognize Paul and Hetta as acknowledged
lovers,--without a fierce inward contest. Two convictions had been
strong in his mind, both of which were opposed to this recognition,--
the first telling him that he would be a fitter husband for the girl
than Paul Montague, and the second assuring him that Paul had
ill-treated him in such a fashion that forgiveness would be both
foolish and unmanly. For Roger, though he was a religious man, and
one anxious to conform to the spirit of Christianity, would not allow
himself to think that an injury should be forgiven unless the man who
did the injury repented of his own injustice. As to giving his coat to
the thief who had taken his cloak,--he told himself that were he and
others to be guided by that precept honest industry would go naked in
order that vice and idleness might be comfortably clothed. If any one
stole his cloak he would certainly put that man in prison as soon as
possible and not commence his lenience till the thief should at any
rate affect to be sorry for his fault. Now, to his thinking, Paul
Montague had stolen his cloak, and were he, Roger, to give way in this
matter of his love, he would be giving Paul his coat also. No! He was
bound after some fashion to have Paul put into prison; to bring him
before a jury, and to get a verdict against him, so that some sentence
of punishment might be at least pronounced. How then could he yield?

And Paul Montague had shown himself to be very weak in regard to women.
It might be,--no doubt it was true,--that Mrs Hurtle's appearance
in England had been distressing to him. But still he had gone down
with her to Lowestoft as her lover, and, to Roger's thinking, a man
who could do that was quite unfit to be the husband of Hetta Carbury.
He would himself tell no tales against Montague on that head. Even
when pressed to do so he had told no tale. But not the less was his
conviction strong that Hetta ought to know the truth, and to be
induced by that knowledge to reject her younger lover.

But then over these convictions there came a third,--equally strong,--
which told him that the girl loved the younger man and did not love
him, and that