The ladies murmured and hummed of these proceedings, and of Rose’s familiarity with Mr. Harrington; and the Countess in trepidation took Evan to herself, and spoke to him seriously; a thing she had not done since her residence in Beckley. She let him see that he must be on a friendly footing with everybody in the house, or go which latter alternative Evan told her he had decided on. “Yes,” said the Countess, “and then you give people full warrant to say it was jealousy drove you hence; and you do but extinguish yourself to implicate dear Rose. In love, Evan, when you run away, you don’t live to fight another day.” She was commanded not to speak of love. “Whatever it may be, my dear,” said the Countess, “Mr. Laxley has used you ill. It may be that you put yourself at his feet”; and his sister looked at him, sighing a great sigh. She had, with violence, stayed her mouth concerning what she knew of the Fallowfield business, dreading to alarm his sensitiveness; but she could not avoid giving him a little slap. It was only to make him remember by the smart that he must always suffer when he would not be guided by her. Evan professed to the Jocelyns that he was willing to apologize to Laxley for certain expressions; determining to leave the house when he had done it. The Countess heard and nodded. The young men, sounded on both sides, were accordingly lured to the billiard-room, and pushed together: and when he had succeeded in thrusting the idea of Rose from the dispute, it did seem such folly to Evan’s common sense, that he spoke with pleasant bonhommie about it. That done, he entered into his acted part, and towered in his conceit considerably above these aristocratic boors, who were speechless and graceless, but tigers for their privileges and advantages. It will not be thought that the Countess intended to permit her brother’s departure. To have toiled, and yet more, to have lied and fretted her conscience, for nothing, was as little her principle, as to quit the field of action till she is forcibly driven from it is that of any woman. “Going, my dear,” she said coolly. “To-morrow? Oh! very well. You are the judge. And this creature—the insolvent to the apple-woman, who is coming, whom you would push here—will expose us, without a soul to guide his conduct, for I shall not remain. And Carry will not remain. Carry—-!” The Countess gave a semisob. “Carry must return to her brute—” meaning the gallant Marine, her possessor. And the Countess, knowing that Evan loved his sister Caroline, incidentally related to him an episode in the domestic life of Major and Mrs. Strike. “Greatly redounding to the credit of the noble martinet for the discipline he upholds,” the Countess said, smiling at the stunned youth. “I would advise you to give her time to recover from one bruise,” she added. “You will do as it pleases you.” Evan was sent rushing from the Countess to Caroline, with whom the Countess was content to leave him.