fresh capital out of this. She withdrew the name,
explaining that she had been ordered to do so by the lady's husband,
and implying that thereby additional evidence was supplied that the
Disabilities of Women were absolutely crushing to the sex in England.
Mary, when she saw this,--and the paper did not reach her till she was
at Manor Cross,--was violent in her anxiety to write herself, in her
own name, and disclaim all disabilities; but her husband by this time
had been advised to have nothing further to do with Dr. Fleabody, and
Mary was forced to keep her indignation to herself.

But worse than this followed the annoyance of the advertisement. A man
came all the way down from London for the purpose of serving Lady
George with a subpoena to give evidence at the trial on the part of the
Baroness. Lord George was up in London at the time, never having
entered the house at Manor Cross, or even the park, since his visit to
Italy. The consternation of the ladies may be imagined. Poor Mary was
certainly not in a condition to go into a court of law, and would be
less so on the day fixed for the trial. And yet this awful document
seemed to her and to her sisters-in-law to be so imperative as to admit
of no escape. It was in vain that Lady Sarah, with considerable
circumlocution, endeavoured to explain to the messenger the true state
of the case. The man could simply say that he was only a messenger, and
had now done his work. Looked at in any light, the thing was very
terrible. Lord George might probably even yet be able to run away with
her to some obscure corner of the continent in which messengers from
the Queen's judges would not be able to find her; and she might perhaps
bear the journey without injury. But then what would become of a
baby--perhaps of a Popenjoy--so born? There were many who still thought
that the Marquis would go before the baby came; and, in that case, the
baby would at once be a Popenjoy. What a condition was this for a
Marchioness to be in at the moment of the birth of her eldest child!
"But I don't know anything about the nasty women!" said Mary, through
her tears.

"It is such a pity that you should ever have gone," said Lady Susanna,
shaking her head.

"It wasn't wicked to go," said Mary, "and I won't be scolded about it
any more. You went to a lecture yourself when you were in town, and
they might just as well have sent for you."

Lady Sarah promised her that she should not be scolded, and w