inly had been no oil thrown upon the waters as yet.

The next day was passed almost in absolute silence. It was the Friday,
and each of them knew that Lord George would be home on the morrow. The
interval was so short that nothing could be gained by writing to him.
Each had her own story to tell, and each must wait till he should be
there to hear it. Mary with a most distant civility went through her
work of hostess. Lady Susanna made one or two little efforts to subdue
her; but, failing, soon gave up the endeavour. In the afternoon Aunt Ju
called with her niece, but their conversation did not lessen the
breach. Then Lady Susanna went out alone in the brougham; but that had
been arranged beforehand. They ate their dinner in silence, in silence
read their books, and met in silence at the breakfast-table. At three
o'clock Lord George came home, and then Mary, running downstairs, took
him with her into the drawing-room. There was one embrace, and then she
began. "George," she said, "you must never have Susanna here again."

"Why?" said he.

"She has insulted me. She has said things so nasty that I cannot repeat
them, even to you. She has accused me to my face--of flirting. I won't
bear it from her. If you said it, it would kill me; but of course you
can say what you please. But she shall not scold me, and tell me that I
am this and that because I am not as solemn as she is, George. Do you
believe that I have ever--flirted?" She was so impetuous that he had
been quite unable to stop her. "Did you mean that she should behave to
me like that?"

"This is very bad," he said.

"What is very bad. Is it not bad that she should say such things to me
as that? Are you going to take her part against me?"

"Dearest Mary, you seem to be excited."

"Of course I am excited. Would you wish me to have such things as that
said to me, and not to be excited? You are not going to take part
against me?"

"I have not heard her yet."

"Will you believe her against me? Will she be able to make you believe
that I have--flirted? If so, then it is all over."

"What is all over?"

"Oh, George, why did you marry me, if you cannot trust me?"

"Who says that I do not trust you? I suppose the truth is you have been
a little--flighty."

"Been what? I suppose you mean the same thing. I have talked and
laughed, and been amused, if that means being flighty. She thinks it
wicked to laugh, and calls it slang if every word doesn't come out of
the