ushed by the accusations which had
been made against her upstairs. "Home," said Mary in despair. To have
the Baroness in Munster Court would be dreadful; but anything was
better than standing in Green Street with the servant at the carriage
window.

Then the Baroness began her story. Lady Selina Protest had utterly
refused to do her justice, and Aunt Ju was weak enough to be domineered
by Lady Selina. That, as far as Mary understood anything about it, was
the gist of the story. But she did not try to understand anything about
it. During the drive her mind was intent on forming some plan by which
she might be able to get rid of her companion without asking her into
her house. She had paid her sovereign, and surely the Baroness had no
right to demand more of her. When she reached Munster Court her plan
was in some sort framed. "And now, madam," she said, "where shall I
tell my servant to take you?" The Baroness looked very suppliant. "If
you vas not busy I should so like just one half-hour of conversation."
Mary nearly yielded. For a moment she hesitated as though she were
going to put up her hand and help the lady out. But then the memory of
her own unhappiness steeled her heart, and the feeling grew strong
within her that this nasty woman was imposing on her,--and she refused.
"I am afraid, madam," she said, "that my time is altogether occupied."
"Then let him take me to 10, Alexandrina Row, Maida Vale," said the
Baroness, throwing herself sulkily back into the carriage. Lady George
gave the direction to the astounded coachman,--for Maida Vale was a
long way off,--and succeeded in reaching her own drawing-room alone.

What was she to do? The only course in which there seemed to be safety
was in telling all to her husband. If she did not, it would probably be
told by the cruel lips of that odious woman. But yet, how was she to
tell it? It was not as though everything in this matter was quite
pleasant between her and him. Lady Susanna had accused her of flirting
with the man, and that she had told to him. And in her heart of hearts
she believed that the waltzing had been stopped because she had waltzed
with Jack De Baron. Nothing could be more unjust, nothing more cruel;
but still there were the facts. And then the sympathy between her and
her husband was so imperfect. She was ever trying to be in love with
him, but had never yet succeeded in telling even herself that she had
succeeded.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"WHAT