“To-morrow morning!” said Sheila sadly. “Do you know how we should be situated to-morrow morning? The story of my going away would become known to his friends; he would go among them as though he had suffered some disgrace, and I the cause of it. And though he is a man, and would soon be careless of that, how could I go with him amongst his friends, and feel that I had shamed him? It would be worse than ever between us; and I have no wish to begin again what ended this morning--none at all, Mrs. Lavender.” “And do you mean to say that you intend to live permanently apart from your husband?” “I do not know,” said Sheila, in a despairing tone. “I cannot tell you. What I feel is that, with all this trouble, it is better that our life as it was in that house should come to an end.” Then she arose. There was a tired look about the face, as if she were too weary to care whether this old woman would help her or no. Mrs. Lavender regarded her for a moment, wondering, perhaps, that a girl so handsome, fine-colored, and proud-eyed should be distressing herself with imaginary sentiments, instead of taking life cheerfully, enjoying the hour as it passed, and being quite assured of the interest and liking and homage of every one with whom she came in contact. Sheila turned to the bed once more, about to say that she had troubled Mrs. Lavender too much already, and that she would look after these lodgings. But the old woman apparently anticipated as much, and said, with much deliberation, that if Sheila and her companion would only remain one or two days in the house, proper rooms should be provided for them somewhere. Young girls could not venture into lodgings without strict inquiries being made. Sheila should have suitable rooms, and Mrs. Lavender would see that she was properly looked after and that she wanted for nothing. In the meantime she must have some money. “It is kind of you,” said the girl, blushing hotly, “but I do not require it.” “Oh, I suppose we are too proud,” said the old woman. “If we disapprove of our husband taking money, we must not do it either. Why, child, you have learnt nothing in London. You are a savage yet. You must let me give you something for your pocket, or what are you to do? You say you have left everything at home. Do you think hairbrushes, for example, grow on trees; that you can go into Kensington Gardens and stock your rooms?” “I have some money--a few pounds--that my papa gave me,” Sheila said. “And when that is done?” “He will give me more.” “And yet you don’t wish him to know you have left your husband’s house! What will he make of these repeated demands for money?” “My papa will give me anything I want without asking any questions.”