‘Because I knew she was burnt.’ ‘Why didn’t you force Cytherea to come back, then? Now, my love, I have caught you, and you may just as well tell first as last, _what was your motive in having me here as your first wife_?’ ‘Silence!’ he exclaimed. She was silent for the space of two minutes, and then persisted in going on to mutter, ‘And why was it that Miss Aldclyffe allowed her favourite young lady, Cythie, to be overthrown and supplanted without an expostulation or any show of sympathy? Do you know I often think you exercise a secret power over Miss Aldclyffe. And she always shuns me as if I shared the power. A poor, ill-used creature like me sharing power, indeed!’ ‘She thinks you are Mrs. Manston.’ ‘That wouldn’t make her avoid me.’ ‘Yes it would,’ he exclaimed impatiently. ‘I wish I was dead--dead!’ He had jumped up from his seat in uttering the words, and now walked wearily to the end of the room. Coming back more decisively, he looked in her face. ‘We must leave this place if Raunham suspects what I think he does,’ he said. ‘The request of Cytherea and her brother may simply be for a satisfactory proof, to make her feel legally free--but it may mean more.’ ‘What may it mean?’ ‘How should I know?’ ‘Well, well, never mind, old boy,’ she said, approaching him to make up the quarrel. ‘Don’t be so alarmed--anybody would think that you were the woman and I the man. Suppose they do find out what I am--we can go away from here and keep house as usual. People will say of you, “His first wife was burnt to death” (or “ran away to the Colonies,” as the case may be); “He married a second, and deserted her for Anne Seaway.” A very everyday case--nothing so horrible, after all.’ He made an impatient movement. ‘Whichever way we do it, _nobody must know that you are not my wife Eunice_. And now I must think about arranging matters.’ Manston then retired to his office, and shut himself up for the remainder of the evening. XIX. THE EVENTS OF A DAY AND NIGHT 1. MARCH THE TWENTY-FIRST. MORNING Next morning the steward went out as usual. He shortly told his companion, Anne, that he had almost matured their scheme, and that they would enter upon the details of it when he came home at night. The fortunate fact that the rector’s letter did not require an immediate answer would give him time to consider. Anne Seaway then began her duties in the house. Besides daily superintending the cook and housemaid one of these duties was, at rare intervals, to dust Manston’s office with her own hands, a servant being supposed to disturb the books and papers unnecessarily. She softly wandered from table to shelf with the duster in her hand, afterwards standing in the middle of the room, and glancing around to discover if any noteworthy collection of dust had still escaped her.