g home, of the
cruelty to which she had been and was subjected. She was all alone there,
waiting, waiting, waiting, till the dreary days should have gone by. And
if no good news should come, if Mr. Peacocke should return with tidings
that her husband was alive and well, what should she do then? What would
the world then have in store for her? "If it were me," said the Doctor to
himself, "I'd take her to some other home and treat her as my wife in
spite of all the Puddicombes in creation;--in spite of all the bishops."

The Doctor, though he was a self-asserting and somewhat violent man, was
thoroughly soft-hearted. It is to be hoped that the reader has already
learned as much as that;--a man with a kind, tender, affectionate nature.
It would perhaps be unfair to raise a question whether he would have done
as much, been so willing to sacrifice himself, for a plain woman. Had Mr.
Stantiloup, or Sir Samuel Griffin if he had suddenly come again to life,
been found to have prior wives also living, would the Doctor have found
shelter for them in their ignominy and trouble? Mrs. Wortle, who knew her
husband thoroughly, was sure that he would not have done so. Mrs.
Peacocke was a very beautiful woman, and the Doctor was a man who
thoroughly admired beauty. To say that Mrs. Wortle was jealous would be
quite untrue. She liked to see her husband talking to a pretty woman,
because he would be sure to be in a good humour and sure to make the best
of himself. She loved to see him shine. But she almost wished that Mrs.
Peacocke had been ugly, because there would not then have been so much
danger about the school.

"I'm just going up to see her," said the Doctor, as soon as he got
home,--"just to ask her what she wants."

"I don't think she wants anything," said Mrs. Wortle, weakly.

"Does she not? She must be a very odd woman if she can live there all day
alone, and not want to see a human creature."

"I was with her yesterday."

"And therefore I will call to-day," said the Doctor, leaving the room with
his hat on.

When he was shown up into the sitting-room he found Mrs. Peacocke with a
newspaper in her hand. He could see at a glance that it was a copy of the
'Broughton Gazette,' and could see also the length and outward show of the
very article which he had been discussing with Mr. Puddicombe. "Dr.
Wortle," she said, "if you don't mind, I will go away from this."

"But I do mind. Why should you go away?"

"