ut suppose I don't believe you! Suppose I think that in saying all
that you are lying like the very devil!" Lord George jumped in his
chair, almost as though he had been shot. "My dear fellow, what's the
good of this humbug? You think you've got a chance. I don't believe you
were quick enough to see it yourself, but your father-in-law has put
you up to it. He is not quite such an ass as you are; but even he is
ass enough to fancy that because I, an Englishman, have married an
Italian lady, therefore the marriage may, very likely, be good for
nothing."

"We only want proof."

"Does anybody ever come to you and ask you for proofs of your marriage
with that very nice young woman, the Dean's daughter?"

"Anybody may find them at Brotherton."

"No doubt. And I can put my hand on the proofs of my marriage when I
want to do so. In the meantime I doubt whether you can learn anything
to your own advantage by coming here."

"I didn't want to learn anything."

"If you would look after your own wife a little closer, I fancy it
would be a better employment for you. She is at present probably
amusing herself with Captain De Baron."

"That is calumny," said Lord George, rising from his chair.

"No doubt. Any imputation coming from me is calumny. But you can make
imputations as heavy and as hard as you please--and all in the way of
honour. I've no doubt you'll find her with Captain De Baron if you'll
go and look."

"I should find her doing nothing that she ought not to do," said the
husband, turning round for his hat and gloves.

"Or perhaps making a speech at the Rights of Women Institute on behalf
of that German baroness who, I'm told, is in gaol. But, George, don't
you take it too much to heart. You've got the money. When a man goes
into a stable for his wife, he can't expect much in the way of conduct
or manners. If he gets the money he ought to be contented." He had to
hear it all to the last bitter word before he could escape from the
room and make his way out into the street.

It was at this time about four o'clock, and in his agony of mind he had
turned down towards Piccadilly before he could think what he would do
with himself for the moment. Then he remembered that Berkeley Square
was close to him on the other side, and that he had been summoned there
about this hour. To give him his due, it should be owned that he had no
great desire to visit Berkeley Square in his present condition of
feeling. Since the receip