On seeing and hearing this, for the first time in his life since we married, Seymour felt irritated against me; and coming up to me, he said, in a voice nearly extinct with passion, "Mrs. Pendarves, I insist on your apologizing to that lady for the rudeness of which you have been guilty." For one moment my spirit revolted at the word "insist," and my feelings were overset by the "Mrs. Pendarves;" but it was only for a moment. I felt that I had been rude; and I also felt that I should not have acted as I did, spite of my suspicions, if I had not been jealous of Seymour's adoration for her. Accordingly, drawing so near to her that no one could hear what passed, I told her that at the command of my husband, I assured her I did not mean to wound or offend her, and that I was sorry I had done so. "Ah! 'tis your husban spoak den, not your own heart--dat's wat I want." "The feelings of my heart," said I, "are not at the command even of my husband; but my words are, and I have obeyed him--but I am really sorry when I have given pain to any one." Then with a low curtsy I left them, and retired to a further part of the room. During this time I saw that Seymour looked still angry, and was not satisfied with my apology, or the manner in which I delivered it; and I repented I had not been more gracious. But now I was requested to sing a Venetian air to the Spanish guitar, to which I had written English words; and I complied, glad to do something to escape from my own painful reflections, and also from the earnest manner in which De Walden examined my countenance, and watched what had just passed. But in order no doubt to mortify my vanity by calling off the attention from me to herself, the moment I began, Lady Martindale set her little dog down who was lying in her lap, and began to make him dance to the tune; but as she did not get up herself and dance as usual with him, the poor beast did not know what to make of it, but set up a most violent barking. I had had resolution to go on both singing and playing during the grimaces of the dog and its mistress, even though my own husband instead of resenting the affront to me had seemed to enjoy it; but when the dog spoke I was silent; on which De Walden seized the little animal in his arms in spite of Lady Martindale's resistance, and put it out of the room. Then stooping down he whispered something in her ear which silenced her at once. During this scene I trembled in every limb; for I feared that Seymour might be mad enough to resent De Walden's conduct. I was therefore relieved when Lord Martindale came up to him, as if he meant to resent the violence offered to his lady's dog; but on approaching De Walden, he said, with great good humour--"That was right, Count De Walden; and if you had not done it, _I_ should. Only think that a beast like that should presume to interrupt a Seraph!"