m. I don't think I'd disturb the Marchioness if I were you, my
lord."

The Marchioness was not disturbed, but Lord George again went up to
London, on this occasion occupying the house in Munster Court in
solitude. His scruples were all renewed, and it was in vain that Lady
Sarah repeated to him all Mr. Knox's arguments. He had been called a
mean fellow, and the word rankled with him. He walked about alone
thinking of the absolute obedience with which in early days he had
complied with all the behests of his elder brother, and the perfect
faith with which in latter days he had regarded that brother's
interests. He went away swearing to himself that he would never again
put his foot within the domain of Manor Cross as long as it was his
brother's property. A day might come when he would return there; but
Lord George was not a man to anticipate his own prosperity. Mary wished
to accompany him; but this was not allowed. The Marchioness inquired a
dozen times why he should go away; but there was no one who could tell
her.

CHAPTER LVIII.

MRS. JONES' LETTER.

A few days before Christmas Mary received a long letter from her friend
Mrs. Montacute Jones. At this time there was sad trouble again at Manor
Cross. Lord George had been away for a fortnight, and no reason for his
departure had as yet been given to the Marchioness. She had now become
aware that he was not to be at home at Christmas, and she was full of
doubt, full of surmises of her own. He must have quarrelled with his
sisters! They all assured her that there hadn't been an unpleasant word
between him and any one of them. Then he must have quarrelled with his
wife! "Indeed, indeed he has not," said Mary. "He has never quarrelled
with me and he never shall." Then why did he stay away? Business was
nonsense. Why was he going to stay away during Christmas. Then it was
necessary to tell the old lady a little fib. She was informed that
Brotherton had specially desired him to leave the house. This certainly
was a fib, as Brotherton's late order had been of a very different
nature. "I hope he hasn't done anything to offend his brother again,"
said the Marchioness. "I wonder whether it's about Popenjoy!" In the
midst of her troubles the poor old woman's wits were apt to wander.

Mary too had become rather cross, thinking that as her husband was up
in town she should be allowed to be there too. But it had been conceded
by her, and by her father on her behalf, th