For a few minutes I lay in silence, feeling cold and wretched, the throbbing in my head and the ticking of the clock in the passage seeming to keep time. The faint echo of some distant cries reached my ears, and I could distinguish the words of "Middleton for ever!" I trembled and hid my face in my pillow. What would they cry out next? They shouted louder still; and my maid came in on tiptoe, and when I turned round and looked at her, she said, "I thought they would have woke you, Ma'am. They are hallooing so, because Mr. Middleton is coming home; and they are cheering him all the way." Coming home! He, Edward! To me! The husband of _her_ who... Oh, had he heard those words? had he noticed them? Would he repeat them? and as he did, would a sudden light flash on his brain, and the whole truth burst upon him at once? There had been a scuffle in that gallery. What was it? I must know; I must hear; I must speak to Henry. "More shouting! more hallooing!" "Mr. Middleton is coming in, Ma'am." "Lock the door, and say I am asleep." "What were you pleased to say, Ma'am?" "Nothing, nothing. Do I look very ill?" "Not very ill, Ma'am." Edward came, and in a kind manner said, "My own love, I am so vexed to hear that you have been poorly. You ought not to have come. How are you now?" "Better, dearest." "Your aunt says you are not to talk; so now be quite still, and try to go to sleep. I am going to dinner, where I shall have to speak again. Did you like my speech this morning?" I seized his hand, kissed it over and over again, and then pressed it upon my eyes, as I answered; "Perfect,--perfect as yourself." He drew me fondly to him; and I whispered in his ear, "Come to Elmsley now. Do not leave me; I am weak; I am ill. Give up this dinner; I shall be miserable if you go to it. Take me back to Elmsley _now_, immediately." "My dear love, what are you talking about? You know the thing is impossible. You can go when you like with your aunt; I shall come in the evening." "That will not do, Edward. I entreat, I implore you not to leave me. Have I no influence with you? Have those detestable politics already so engrossed you, that my wishes, my entreaties, are vain?" "For Heaven's sake, Ellen, do not be so foolish! Again in tears! Again a scene! This is really past endurance." He walked up and down the room, while I stood by the chimney, and with clasped hands and streaming eyes repeated, "Scold me; reproach me; but do not leave me! Do, do, I implore you, come with me at once to Elmsley."