Can You Forgive Her?

  CHAPTER XLIII.

  Mrs. Marsham.

  But Lady Glencora was not brought to repentance by her husband's lastwords. It seemed to her to be so intolerably cruel, this demand ofhis, that she should be made to pass the whole of her first eveningin town with an old woman for whom it was impossible that she shouldentertain the slightest regard, that she resolved upon rebellion. Hadhe positively ordered Mrs. Marsham, she would have sent for that lady,and have contented herself with enduring her presence in disdainfulsilence; but Mr. Palliser had not given any order. He had made arequest, and a request, from its very nature, admits of no obedience.The compliance with a request must be voluntary, and she would notsend for Mrs. Marsham, except upon compulsion. Had not she also madea request to him, and had not he refused it? It was his prerogative,undoubtedly, to command; but in that matter of requests she had aright to expect that her voice should be as potent as his own. Shewrote a line, therefore, to Alice before she went to bed, begging hercousin to come to her early on the following day, so that they mightgo out together, and then afterwards dine in company with Mr. Bott.

  "I know that will be an inducement to you," Lady Glencora said,"because your generous heart will feel of what service you may be tome. Nobody else will be here,--unless, indeed, Mrs. Marsham should beasked, unknown to myself."

  Then she sat herself down to think,--to think especially about thecruelty of husbands. She had been told over and over again, in thedays before her marriage, that Burgo would ill-use her if he becameher husband. The Marquis of Auld Reekie had gone so far as to suggestthat Burgo might probably beat her. But what hard treatment, evenwhat beating, could be so unendurable as this total want of sympathy,as this deadness in life, which her present lot entailed upon her? Asfor that matter of beating, she ridiculed the idea in her very soul.She sat smiling at the absurdity of the thing as she thought of thebeauty of Burgo's eyes, of the softness of his touch, of the loving,almost worshipping, tones of his voice. Would it not even be betterto be beaten by him than to have politics explained to her at oneo'clock at night by such a husband as Plantagenet Palliser? TheBritish Constitution, indeed! Had she married Burgo they would havebeen in sunny Italy, and he would have told her some other tale thanthat as they sat together under the pale moonlight. She had a littlewater-coloured drawing called Raphael and Fornarina, and she wasinfantine enough to tell herself that the so-called Raphael was likeher Burgo--no, not her Burgo, but the Burgo that was not hers. At anyrate, all the romance of the picture she might have enjoyed had theyallowed her to dispose as she had wished of her own hand. She mighthave sat in marble balconies, while the vines clustered over herhead, and he would have been at her knee, hardly speaking to her,but making his presence felt by the halo of its divinity. He wouldhave called upon her for no hard replies. With him near her she wouldhave enjoyed the soft air, and would have sat happy, without trouble,lapped in the delight of loving. It was thus that Fornarina sat. Andwhy should not such a lot have been hers? Her Raphael would haveloved her, let them say what they would about his cruelty.

  Poor, wretched, overburthened child, to whom the commonest lessons oflife had not yet been taught, and who had now fallen into the handsof one who was so ill-fitted to teach them! Who would not pity her?Who could say that the fault was hers? The world had laden her withwealth till she had had no limb free for its ordinary uses, and thenhad turned her loose to run her race!

  "Have you written to your cousin?" her husband asked her the nextmorning. His voice, as he spoke, clearly showed that his anger waseither over or suppressed.

  "Yes; I have asked her to come and drive, and then to stay fordinner. I shall send the carriage for her if she can come. The man isto wait for an answer."

  "Very well," said Mr. Palliser, mildly. And then, after a short pause,he added, "As that is settled, perhaps you would have no objection toask Mrs. Marsham also?"

  "Won't she probably be engaged?"

  "No; I think not," said Mr. Palliser. And then he added, being ashamedof the tinge of falsehood of which he would otherwise have beenguilty, "I know she is not engaged."

  "She expects to come, then?" said Lady Glencora.

  "I have not asked her, if you mean that, Glencora. Had I done so,I should have said so. I told her that I did not know what yourengagements were."

  "I will write to her, if you please," said the wife, who felt thatshe could hardly refuse any longer.

  "Do, my dear!" said the husband. So Lady Glencora did write to Mrs.Marsham, who promised to come,--as did also Alice Vavasor.

  Lady Glencora would, at any rate, have Alice to herself for somehours before dinner. At first she took comfort in that reflectionbut after a while she bethought herself that she would not knowwhat to tell Alice, or what not to tell. Did she mean to show thatletter to her cousin? If she did show it, then,--so she argued withherself,--she must bring herself to endure the wretchedness of herpresent lot, and must give up for ever all her dreams about Raphaeland Fornarina. If she did not show it,--or, at any rate, tell ofit,--then it would come to pass that she would leave her husbandunder the protection of another man, and she would become--what shedid not dare to name even to herself. She declared that so it mustbe. She knew that she would go with Burgo, should he ever come to herwith the means of going at his and her instant command. But shouldshe bring herself to let Alice know that such a letter had beenconveyed to her, Burgo would never have such power.

  I remember the story of a case of abduction in which a man was triedfor his life, and was acquitted, because the lady had acquiesced inthe carrying away while it was in progress. She had, as she herselfdeclared, armed herself with a sure and certain charm or talismanagainst such dangers, which she kept suspended round her neck; butwhilst she was in the post-chaise she opened the window and threwthe charm from her, no longer desiring, as the learned counsel forthe defence efficiently alleged, to be kept under the bonds of suchprotection. Lady Glencora's state of mind was, in its nature, nearlythe same as that of the lady in the post-chaise. Whether or no shewould use her charm, she had not yet decided, but the power of doingso was still hers.

  Alice came, and the greeting between the cousins was veryaffectionate. Lady Glencora received her as though they had beenplaymates from early childhood; and Alice, though such impulsive lovewas not natural to her as to the other, could not bring herself tobe cold to one who was so warm to her. Indeed, had she not promisedher love in that meeting at Matching Priory in which her cousinhad told her of all her wretchedness? "I will love you!" Alice hadsaid; and though there was much in Lady Glencora that she could notapprove,--much even that she could not bring herself to like,--stillshe would not allow her heart to contradict her words.

  They sat so long over the fire in the drawing-room that at last theyagreed that the driving should be abandoned.

  "What's the use of it?" said Lady Glencora. "There's nothing to see,and the wind is as cold as charity. We are much more comfortablehere; are we not?" Alice quite acquiesced in this, having no greatdesire to be driven through the parks in the gloom of a Februaryafternoon.

  "If I had Dandy and Flirt up here, there would be some fun in it; butMr. Palliser doesn't wish me to drive in London."

  "I suppose it would be dangerous?"

  "Not in the least. I don't think it's that he minds; but he has anidea that it looks fast."

  "So it does. If I were a man, I'm sure I shouldn't like my wife todrive horses about London."

  "And why not? Just because you'd be a tyrant,--like other husbands?What's the harm of looking fast, if one doesn't do anything improper?Poor Dandy, and dear Flirt! I'm sure they'd like it."

  "Perhaps Mr. Palliser doesn't care for that?"

  "I can tell you something else he doesn't care for. He doesn't carewhether Dandy's mistress likes it."

  "Don't say that, Glencora."

  "Why not say it,--to you?"

  "Don't teach yourself to think it. That's what I mean. I believe hewould consent to anything that he didn't think wrong."

>   "Such as lectures about the British Constitution! But never mindabout that, Alice. Of course the British Constitution is everythingto him, and I wish I knew more about it;--that's all. But I haven'ttold you whom you are to meet at dinner."

  "Yes, you have--Mr. Bott."

  "But there's another guest, a Mrs. Marsham. I thought I'd got rid ofher for to-day, when I wrote to you; but I hadn't. She's coming."

  "She won't hurt me at all," said Alice.

  "She will hurt me very much. She'll destroy the pleasure of our wholeevening. I do believe that she hates you, and that she thinks youinstigate me to all manner of iniquity. What fools they all are!"

  "Who are they all, Glencora?"

  "She and that man, and--. Never mind. It makes me sick when I thinkthat they should be so blind. Alice, I hardly know how much I owe toyou; I don't, indeed. Everything, I believe." Lady Glencora, as shespoke, put her hand into her pocket, and grasped the letter which laythere.

  "That's nonsense," said Alice.

  "No; it's not nonsense. Who do you think came to Matching when I wasthere?"

  "What;--to the house?" said Alice, feeling almost certain that Mr.Fitzgerald was the person to whom Lady Glencora was alluding.

  "No; not to the house."

  "If it is the person of whom I am thinking," said Alice, solemnly,"let me implore you not to speak of him."

  "And why should I not speak of him? Did I not speak of him before toyou, and was it not for good? How are you to be my friend, if I maynot speak to you of everything?"

  "But you should not think of him."

  "What nonsense you talk, Alice! Not think of him! How is one to helpone's thoughts? Look here."

  Her hand was on the letter, and it would have been out in a moment,and thrown upon Alice's lap, had not the servant opened the door andannounced Mrs. Marsham.

  "Oh, how I do wish we had gone to drive!" said Lady Glencora, in avoice which the servant certainly heard, and which Mrs. Marsham wouldhave heard had she not been a little hard of hearing,--in her bonnet.

  "How do, my dear?" said Mrs. Marsham. "I thought I'd just come acrossfrom Norfolk Street and see you, though I am coming to dinner in theevening. It's only just a step, you know. How d'ye do, Miss Vavasor?"and she made a salutation to Alice which was nearly as cold as itcould be.

  Mrs. Marsham was a woman who had many good points. She was poor,and bore her poverty without complaint She was connected by bloodand friendship with people rich and titled; but she paid to none ofthem egregious respect on account of their wealth or titles. She wasstaunch in her friendships, and staunch in her enmities. She wasno fool, and knew well what was going on in the world. She couldtalk about the last novel, or--if need be--about the Constitution.She had been a true wife, though sometimes too strong-minded, and apainstaking mother, whose children, however, had never loved her asmost mothers like to be loved.

  The catalogue of her faults must be quite as long as that of hervirtues. She was one of those women who are ambitious of power, andnot very scrupulous as to the manner in which they obtain it. Shewas hardhearted, and capable of pursuing an object without muchregard to the injury she might do. She would not flatter wealth orfawn before a title, but she was not above any artifice by which shemight ingratiate herself with those whom it suited her purpose toconciliate. She thought evil rather than good. She was herself untruein action, if not absolutely in word. I do not say that she wouldcoin lies, but she would willingly leave false impressions. She hadbeen the bosom friend, and in many things the guide in life, of Mr.Palliser's mother; and she took a special interest in Mr. Palliser'swelfare. When he married, she heard the story of the loves of Burgoand Lady Glencora; and though she thought well of the money, shewas not disposed to think very well of the bride. She made up hermind that the young lady would want watching, and she was of opinionthat no one would be so well able to watch Lady Glencora as herself.She had not plainly opened her mind on this matter to Mr. Palliser;she had not made any distinct suggestion to him that she would actas Argus to his wife. Mr. Palliser would have rejected any suchsuggestion, and Mrs. Marsham knew that he would do so; but shehad let a word or two drop, hinting that Lady Glencora was veryyoung,--hinting that Lady Glencora's manners were charming in theirchildlike simplicity; but hinting also that precaution was, for thatreason, the more necessary. Mr. Palliser, who suspected nothing asto Burgo or as to any other special peril, whose whole dispositionwas void of suspicion, whose dry nature realized neither the delightsnor the dangers of love, acknowledged that Glencora was young. Heespecially wished that she should be discreet and matronly; he fearedno lovers, but he feared that she might do silly things,--thatshe would catch cold,--and not know how to live a life becomingthe wife of a Chancellor of the Exchequer. Therefore he submittedGlencora,--and, to a certain extent, himself,--into the hands of Mrs.Marsham.

  Lady Glencora had not been twenty-four hours in the house with thislady before she recognized in her a duenna. In all such matters noone could be quicker than Lady Glencora. She might be very ignorantabout the British Constitution, and, alas! very ignorant also as tothe real elements of right and wrong in a woman's conduct, but shewas no fool. She had an eye that could see, and an ear that couldunderstand, and an abundance of that feminine instinct which teachesa woman to know her friend or her enemy at a glance, at a touch, ata word. In many things Lady Glencora was much quicker, much moreclever, than her husband, though he was to be Chancellor of theExchequer, and though she did know nothing of the Constitution.She knew, too, that he was easily to be deceived,--that though hisintelligence was keen, his instincts were dull,--that he was giftedwith no fineness of touch, with no subtle appreciation of thecharacters of men and women; and, to a certain extent, she lookeddown upon him for his obtusity. He should have been aware that Burgowas a danger to be avoided; and he should have been aware also thatMrs. Marsham was a duenna not to be employed. When a woman knows thatshe is guarded by a watch-dog, she is bound to deceive her Cerberus,if it be possible, and is usually not ill-disposed to deceive alsothe owner of Cerberus. Lady Glencora felt that Mrs. Marsham was herCerberus, and she was heartily resolved that if she was to be kept inthe proper line at all, she would not be so kept by Mrs. Marsham.

  Alice rose and accepted Mrs. Marsham's salutation quite as coldly asit had been given, and from that time forward those two ladies wereenemies. Mrs. Marsham, groping quite in the dark, partly guessed thatAlice had in some way interfered to prevent Lady Glencora's visit toMonkshade, and, though such prevention was, no doubt, good in thatlady's eyes, she resented the interference. She had made up her mindthat Alice was not the sort of friend that Lady Glencora should haveabout her. Alice recognized and accepted the feud.

  "I thought I might find you at home," said Mrs. Marsham, "as I knowyou are lazy about going out in the cold,--unless it be for a foolishmidnight ramble," and Mrs. Marsham shook her head. She was a littlewoman, with sharp small eyes, with a permanent colour in her face,and two short, crisp, grey curls at each side of her face; alwayswell dressed, always in good health, and, as Lady Glencora believed,altogether incapable of fatigue.

  "The ramble you speak of was very wise, I think," said Lady Glencora;"but I never could see the use of driving about in London in themiddle of winter."

  "One ought to go out of the house every day," said Mrs. Marsham.

  "I hate all those rules. Don't you, Alice?" Alice did not hate them,therefore she said nothing.

  "My dear Glencora, one must live by rules in this life. You might aswell say that you hated sitting down to dinner."

  "So I do, very often; almost always when there's company."

  "You'll get over that feeling after another season in town," said Mrs.Marsham, pretending to suppose that Lady Glencora alluded to someremaining timidity in receiving her own guests.

  "Upon my word I don't think I shall. It's a thing that seems alwaysto be getting more grievous, instead of less so. Mr. Bott is coming todine here to-night."

  There was no mistaking the meaning of thi
s. There was no pretendingeven to mistake it. Now, Mrs. Marsham had accepted the right handof fellowship from Mr. Bott,--not because she especially liked him,but in compliance with the apparent necessities of Mr. Palliser'sposition. Mr. Bott had made good his ground about Mr. Palliser; and Mrs.Marsham, as she was not strong enough to turn him off from it, hadgiven him the right hand of fellowship.

  "Mr. Bott is a Member of Parliament, and a very serviceable friend ofMr. Palliser's," said Mrs. Marsham.

  "All the same; we do not like Mr. Bott--do we, Alice? He is DoctorFell to us; only I think we could tell why."

  "I certainly do not like him," said Alice.

  "It can be but of small matter to you, Miss Vavasor," said Mrs.Marsham, "as you will not probably have to see much of him."

  "Of the very smallest moment," said Alice. "He did annoy me once, butwill never, I dare say, have an opportunity of doing so again."

  "I don't know what the annoyance may have been."

  "Of course you don't, Mrs. Marsham."

  "But I shouldn't have thought it likely that a person so fullyemployed as Mr. Bott, and employed, too, on matters of such vastimportance, would have gone out of his way to annoy a young lady whomhe chanced to meet for a day or two in a country-house."

  "I don't think that Alice means that he attempted to flirt with her,"said Lady Glencora, laughing. "Fancy Mr. Bott's flirtation!"

  "Perhaps he did not attempt," said Mrs. Marsham; and the words, thetone, and the innuendo together were more than Alice was able to bearwith equanimity.

  "Glencora," said she, rising from her chair, "I think I'll leaveyou alone with Mrs. Marsham. I'm not disposed to discuss Mr. Bott'scharacter, and certainly not to hear his name mentioned indisagreeable connection with my own."

  But Lady Glencora would not let her go. "Nonsense, Alice," she said."If you and I can't fight our little battles against Mr. Bott and Mrs.Marsham without running away, it is odd. There is a warfare in whichthey who run away never live to fight another day."

  "I hope, Glencora, you do not count me as your enemy?" said Mrs.Marsham, drawing herself up.

  "But I shall,--certainly, if you attack Alice. Love me, love my dog.I beg your pardon, Alice; but what I meant was this, Mrs. Marsham;Love me, love the best friend I have in the world."

  "I did not mean to offend Miss Vavasor," said Mrs. Marsham, looking ather very grimly. Alice merely bowed her head. She had been offended,and she would not deny it. After that, Mrs. Marsham took herselfoff, saying that she would be back to dinner. She was angry, butnot unhappy. She thought that she could put down Miss Vavasor, andshe was prepared to bear a good deal from Lady Glencora--for Mr.Palliser's sake, as she said to herself, with some attempt at asentimental remembrance of her old friend.

  "She's a nasty old cat," said Lady Glencora, as soon as the door wasclosed; and she said these words with so droll a voice, with such achildlike shaking of her head, with so much comedy in her grimace,that Alice could not but laugh. "She is," said Lady Glencora. "I knowher, and you'll have to know her, too, before you've done with her.It won't at all do for you to run away when she spits at you. Youmust hold your ground, and show your claws,--and make her know thatif she spits, you can scratch."

  "But I don't want to be a cat myself."

  "She'll find I'm of the genus, but of the tiger kind, if shepersecutes me. Alice, there's one thing I have made up my mind about.I will not be persecuted. If my husband tells me to do anything, aslong as he is my husband I'll do it; but I won't be persecuted."

  "You should remember that she was a very old friend of Mr. Palliser'smother."

  "I do remember; and that may be a very good reason why she shouldcome here occasionally, or go to Matching, or to any place in whichwe may be living. It's a bore, of course; but it's a natural bore,and one that ought to be borne."

  "And that will be the beginning and the end of it."

  "I'm afraid not, my dear. It may perhaps be the end of it, but I fearit won't be the beginning. I won't be persecuted. If she gives meadvice, I shall tell her to her face that it's not wanted; and if sheinsults any friend of mine, as she did you, I shall tell her that shehad better stay away. She'll go and tell him, of course; but I can'thelp that. I've made up my mind that I won't be persecuted."

  After that, Lady Glencora felt no further inclination to show Burgo'sletter to Alice on that occasion. They sat over the drawing-roomfire, talking chiefly of Alice's affairs, till it was time for themto dress. But Alice, though she spoke much of Mr. Grey, said no wordas to her engagement with George Vavasor. How could she speak of it,inasmuch as she had already resolved,--already almost resolved,--thatthat engagement also should be broken?

  Alice, when she came down to the drawing-room, before dinner, foundMr. Bott there alone. She had dressed more quickly than her friend,and Mr. Palliser had not yet made his appearance.

  "I did not expect the pleasure of meeting Miss Vavasor to-day," hesaid, as he came up, offering his hand. She gave him her hand, andthen sat down, merely muttering some word of reply.

  "We spent a very pleasant month down at Matching together;--didn'tyou think so?"

  "I spent a pleasant month there certainly."

  "You left, if I remember, the morning after that late walk out amongthe ruins? That was unfortunate, was it not? Poor Lady Glencora! itmade her very ill; so much so, that she could not go to Monkshade,as she particularly wished. It was very sad. Lady Glencora is verydelicate,--very delicate, indeed. We, who have the privilege of beingnear her, ought always to remember that."

  "I don't think she is at all delicate."

  "Oh! don't you? I'm afraid that's your mistake, Miss Vavasor."

  "I believe she has very good health, which is the greatest blessingin the world. By delicate I suppose you mean weak and infirm."

  "Oh, dear, no,--not in the least,--not infirm certainly! I should bevery sorry to be supposed to have said that Lady Glencora is infirm.What I mean is, not robust, Miss Vavasor. Her general organization,if you understand me, is exquisitely delicate. One can see that, Ithink, in every glance of her eye."

  Alice was going to protest that she had never seen it at all, when Mr.Palliser entered the room along with Mrs. Marsham.

  The two gentlemen shook hands, and then Mr. Palliser turned to Alice.She perceived at once by his face that she was unwelcome, and wishedherself away from his house. It might be all very well for LadyGlencora to fight with Mrs. Marsham,--and with her husband, too, inregard to the Marsham persecution,--but there could be no reason whyshe should do so. He just touched her hand, barely closing his thumbupon her fingers, and asked her how she was. Then he turned away fromher side of the fire, and began talking to Mrs. Marsham on the other.There was that in his face and in his manner which was positivelyoffensive to her. He made no allusion to his former acquaintance withher,--spoke no word about Matching, no word about his wife, as hewould naturally have done to his wife's friend. Alice felt the bloodmount into her face, and regretted greatly that she had ever comeamong these people. Had she not long since made up her mind that shewould avoid her great relations, and did not all this prove that itwould have been well for her to have clung to that resolution? Whatwas Lady Glencora to her that she should submit herself to be treatedas though she were a poor companion,--a dependent, who received asalary for her attendance,--an indigent cousin, hanging on to thebounty of her rich connection? Alice was proud to a fault. She hadnursed her pride till it was very faulty. All her troubles andsorrows in life had come from an overfed craving for independence.Why, then, should she submit to be treated with open want of courtesyby any man; but, of all men, why should she submit to it from such aone as Mr. Palliser,--the heir of a ducal house, rolling in wealth,and magnificent with all the magnificence of British pomp and pride?No; she would make Lady Glencora understand that the close intimaciesof daily life were not possible to them!

  "I declare I'm very much ashamed," said Lady Glencora, as she enteredthe room. "I shan't apologize to you, Alice, for it was you who keptme talk
ing; but I do beg Mrs. Marsham's pardon."

  Mrs. Marsham was all smiles and forgiveness, and hoped that LadyGlencora would not make a stranger of her. Then dinner was announced,and Alice had to walk down stairs by herself. She did not care adoit for that, but there had been a disagreeable little contest whenthe moment came. Lady Glencora had wished to give up Mr. Bott to hercousin, but Mr. Bott had stuck manfully to Lady Glencora's side. Hehoped to take Lady Glencora down to dinner very often, and was not atall disposed to abate his privilege.

  During dinner-time Alice said very little, nor was there given to heropportunity of saying much. She could not but think of the day of herfirst arrival at Matching Priory, when she had sat between the Dukeof St. Bungay and Jeffrey Palliser, and when everybody had been socivil to her! She now occupied one side of the table by herself,away from the fire, where she felt cold and desolate in the gloom ofthe large half-lighted room. Mr. Palliser occupied himself with Mrs.Marsham, who talked politics to him; and Mr. Bott never lost a momentin his endeavours to say some civil word to Lady Glencora. LadyGlencora gave him no encouragement; but she hardly dared to snubhim openly in her husband's immediate presence. Twenty times duringdinner she said some little word to Alice, attempting at first tomake the time pleasant, and then, when the matter was too far gonefor that, attempting to give some relief. But it was of no avail.There are moments in which conversation seems to be impossible,--inwhich the very gods interfere to put a seal upon the lips of theunfortunate one. It was such a moment now with Alice. She had neveras yet been used to snubbing. Whatever position she had hithertoheld, in that she had always stood foremost,--much more so than hadbeen good for her. When she had gone to Matching, she had trembledfor her position but there all had gone well with her; thereLady Glencora's kindness had at first been able to secure forher a reception that had been flattering, and almost better thanflattering. Jeffrey Palliser had been her friend, and would, had sheso willed it, have been more than her friend. But now she felt thatthe halls of the Pallisers were too cold for her, and that the soonershe escaped from their gloom and hard discourtesy the better for her.

  Mrs. Marsham, when the three ladies had returned to the drawing-roomtogether, was a little triumphant. She felt that she had put Alicedown; and with the energetic prudence of a good general who knowsthat he should follow up a victory, let the cost of doing so be whatit may, she determined to keep her down. Alice had resolved that shewould come as seldom as might be to Mr. Palliser's house in ParkLane. That resolution on her part was in close accordance with Mrs.Marsham's own views.

  "Is Miss Vavasor going to walk home?" she asked.

  "Walk home;--all along Oxford Street! Good gracious! no. Why shouldshe walk? The carriage will take her."

  "Or a cab," said Alice. "I am quite used to go about London in a cabby myself."

  "I don't think they are nice for young ladies after dark," said Mrs.Marsham. "I was going to offer my servant to walk with her. She is anelderly woman, and would not mind it."

  "I'm sure Alice is very much obliged," said Lady. Glencora; "but shewill have the carriage."

  "You are very good-natured," said Mrs. Marsham; "but gentlemen do sodislike having their horses out at night."

  "No gentleman's horses will be out," said Lady Glencora, savagely;"and as for mine, it's what they are there for." It was not oftenthat Lady Glencora made any allusion to her own property, or allowedany one near her to suppose that she remembered the fact that herhusband's great wealth was, in truth, her wealth. As to many mattersher mind was wrong. In some things her taste was not delicate asshould be that of a woman. But, as regarded her money, no woman couldhave behaved with greater reticence, or a purer delicacy. But now,when she was twitted by her husband's special friend with ill-usageto her husband's horses, because she chose to send her own friendhome in her own carriage, she did find it hard to bear.

  "I dare say it's all right," said Mrs. Marsham.

  "It is all right," said Lady Glencora. "Mr. Palliser has given me myhorses for my own use, to do as I like with them; and if he thinks Itake them out when they ought to be left at home, he can tell me so.Nobody else has a right to do it." Lady Glencora, by this time, wasalmost in a passion, and showed that she was so.

  "My dear Lady Glencora, you have mistaken me," said Mrs. Marsham; "Idid not mean anything of that kind."

  "I am so sorry," said Alice. "And it is such a pity, as I am quiteused to going about in cabs."

  "Of course you are," said Lady Glencora. "Why shouldn't you? I'dgo home in a wheelbarrow if I couldn't walk, and had no otherconveyance. That's not the question. Mrs. Marsham understands that."

  "Upon my word, I don't understand anything," said that lady.

  "I understand this," said Lady Glencora; "that in all such matters asthat, I intend to follow my own pleasure. Come, Alice, let us havesome coffee,"--and she rang the bell. "What a fuss we have made abouta stupid old carriage!"

  The gentlemen did not return to the drawing-room that evening,having, no doubt, joint work to do in arranging the great financialcalculations of the nation and, at an early hour, Alice was takenhome in Lady Glencora's brougham, leaving her cousin still in thehands of Mrs. Marsham.