When in answer to his uncle's summons, Dorian walks into the library at Hythe on Thursday afternoon, he is both astonished and disconcerted to find his wife there before him. She had given the letter not to him, but to one of the men-servants to deliver to him: so that he is still in utter ignorance of her meeting in the wood with his uncle. "You here?" he says to her, after he has acknowledged Lord Sartoris's presence by the coldest and haughtiest of salutations. She says, "Yes," in a low tone, without raising her eyes. "I was not aware you and Lord Sartoris were on such intimate terms." "We met by chance last Monday for the first time," returns she, still without troubling herself to turn her eyes in his direction. "You will sit down?" says Sartoris, nervously pushing a chair towards him. Dorian is looking so pale and haggard, so unlike himself, that the old man's heart dies within him. What "evil days" has he not fallen on! "No, thank you: I prefer standing. I must, however, remind you of your promise not to detain me longer than you can help." "Nor shall I. I have sent for you to-day to let you know of my determination to settle upon your wife the sum of twenty thousand pounds, to be used for her own exclusive benefit, to be hers absolutely to do with as may seem best to her." "May I ask what has put this quixotic idea into your head?" asks Dorian, in a curious tone. Georgie, who, up to this time, has been so astounded at the disclosure of the earl's scheme as to be unable to collect her ideas, now feels a sudden light break in upon her. She rises to her feet, and comes a little forward, and, for the first time since his entrance, turns to confront her husband. "Let me tell you," she says, silencing Lord Sartoris by a quick motion of the hand. "On Monday I told your uncle how--how I hated being indebted to you for everything I may require. And he has thought of this plan, out of his great kindness," turning eyes dark with tears upon Lord Sartoris,--"to render me more independent. I thank you," she says, going up to Sartoris and slipping her icy cold little hands into his, "but it is far--far too much." "So you have been regaling Lord Sartoris (an utter stranger to you) with a history of all our private griefs and woes!" says Dorian, slowly, utter contempt in his tone and an ominous light in his eyes. "You wrong her, Dorian," says his uncle, gently. "It is not as you represent it. It was by the merest chance I discovered your wife would feel happier if more her own mistress." "And by what right, may I inquire, do you seek to come between my wife and me?" says Dorian, white with anger, standing, tall and strong, with his arms folded and his eyes fixed upon his uncle. "Is it not my part to support and keep her? Whose duty is it, if not mine? I wish to know why you, of all men, have dared to interfere."