st the Dean as being her eldest son's great
enemy. Before the day was over Lord George wrote a long letter to his
wife,--full of affection indeed, but still more full of covert
reproaches. He did not absolutely scold her; but he told her that there
could be no happiness between a wife and a husband unless the wife
would obey, and he implored her to come to him with as little delay as
possible. If she would only come, all should be right between them.

Mary, when her husband was really gone, was much frightened at her own
firmness. That doctrine of obedience to her husband had been accepted
by her in full. When disposed to run counter to the ladies at Manor
Cross, she always had declared to herself that they bore no authority
delegated from "George," and that she would obey "George," and no one
but George. She had told him more than once, half-playfully, that if he
wanted anything done, he must tell her himself. And this, though he
understood it to contain rebellion against the Germains generally, had
a pleasant flavour with him as acknowledging so completely his own
power. She had said to her father, and unfortunately to Mrs. Houghton
when Mrs. Houghton was her friend, that she was not going to do what
all the Germain women told her; but she had always spoken of her
husband's wishes as absolutely imperative. Now she was in open mutiny
against her husband, and, as she thought of it, it seemed to her to be
almost impossible that peace should be restored between them.

"I think I will go down very soon," she said to her father, after she
had received her husband's letter.

"What do you call very soon?"

"In a day or two."

"Do not do anything of the kind. Stay here till the appointed time
comes. It is only a fortnight now. I have made arrangements at
Brotherton, so that I can be with you till then. After that come down
to me. Of course your husband will come over to you at the deanery."

"But if he shouldn't come?"

"Then he would be behaving very wickedly. But, of course, he will come.
He is not a man to be obstinate in that fashion."

"I do not know that, papa."

"But I do. You had better take my advice in this matter. Of course I do
not want to foster a quarrel between you and your husband."

"Pray,--pray don't let there be a quarrel."

"Of course not. But the other night he lost his head, and treated you
badly. You and I are quite willing to forgive and forget all that. Any
man may do a foolish thing, and