to propitiate her now. He put on an air of goodhumour.

6

That's an extraordinary woman below, Janet,' he said. 'I don't quite know what to make of her; but she persists in her story, and declares she can prove every word of it. She is going to remain in the rooms below; they are her husband's, she says, and she has a right. Of course that's no affair of ours. All she wants me to do for her now is to write to Mrs. Leven and tell her story-and then let the Levens call on her for proofs. Of course I'm not in any way responsible for that. If she fails, she must take the consequences. But I think you had better come down, Janet; or let us have her up here. It would be more proper.'

Robert, I'll not go near her,' Janet said, with a white face and lips that trembled. 'I'll not go near her, and I'll not stay in this room if she comes in. She is a vile woman; she is making up a lie, and she knows it—and you know it too, in your heart, Robert. Yes, you do and you are helping her and prompting her all the same. I'm not very clever, but I can see that there isn't a word of truth in her story. I am

ashamed of you that you would have anything to do with such a wretch as that.'

'Your partiality for Mr. Fielding blinds you a little,' he said, with a sneer, and throwing away the pitiful olive-branch of peace he had been pretending to hold out. Has he been here since? I wonder you are not jealous of Mrs. Vanthorpe, as he is so fond of her.'

She looked at him with a flush coming over her cold face. She made one or two efforts to speak, but could not get the words out. At last she said:

'You have spoken in that way too often, Robert; I have put up with a great deal; I'll not bear with any more of that.'

He muttered some bitter reply, and then he got a decanter with some brandy in it and went downstairs to write the letter for Paulina. He wrote the letter, which was all Paulina wanted him to do for her cause just then. She got rid of him soon, and he was glad to go. Paulina was very anxious to maintain every appear

ance of the strictest propriety.

When he left her, he did not go upstairs. He went out into the streets and wandered for hours, shamed, miserable, and hopeless, hating everyone, and burning

with the conviction that all earth and humanity and the destinies had done him bitter wrong. When, long after midnight, he returned to his rooms, they were a solitude. Janet was gone. She had not left a written word behind her to say wherefore she had gone, or whither. But the rooms were empty; Janet was gone.

CHAPTER VIII.

"'TIS A QUICK LIE: 'TWILL AWAY AGAIN.'

MAJOR LEVEN Sat in his study annotating a Blue-book and marking passages for extract from it. He was making up a formidable case against the Foreign Office, and he was full of the present effort and the joy of the coming strife. Suddenly his wife broke in upon him. Her appearance in that room was unusual. Mrs. Leven always considered it a part of the formal dignity of her position as a wife not to show any familiarity with the occupations of her husband, and not to follow him into his study. She thought it became man and wife to be habitually apart. Therefore, when Major Leven saw her enter, he knew that there was matter in it. She really looked alarmed and agitated to a degree that was uncommon indeed with her.

6 George, look at that letter-read that!'

She handed him Paulina's letter, just come to hand. He read it over, growing more and more perturbed as he read. 'I don't understand this,' he said, and he applied himself to read it all over again. It was not very long. Mrs. Leven sat down and waited.

'Stuff!' Major Leven exclaimed at last, throwing the epistle contemptuously on the table.

'You don't believe it, George?'

'Not a word of it. It's all rubbish-it's a weak invention of the enemy,' he added, under the erroneous impression that he was quoting from the writings of William Shakespeare. Fancy this young fellow being your son, Philip Vanthorpe !'

I don't know, George; my mind misgave me the first moment I saw him. I disliked him from the first, although then I knew no reason why.'

'But, good heavens! Constance, you don't really mean to say that you think your I dislike of him is evidence that he must be your son?'

I do,' Mrs. Leven answered solemnly.

I have

reason to dislike my son-good reason; and the moment I first saw this man, I disliked him. George, I believe this woman's story.'