“It is a matter, and a serious one, too, Sophia. I told you, six months ago, we should be ruined by your extravagance, and, by heaven! you must put a stop to it.” “And I told _you, twelve_ months ago, Mr. Tremaine, that if you did not quit betting at the race ground and the gambling table, we should _certainly_ be ruined. You spend thousands, for no earthly good whatever, while I only make use of hundreds, to purchase things absolutely necessary for one holding my position in society. Once for all, let me tell you, Mr. Tremaine, I will have whatever I want;” and, turning to the piano, the amiable lady ran her fingers over the keys, with the most provoking indifference. “Mrs. Tremaine, you are enough to drive a man mad. Do you think I’m a fool, that I will bear to be treated thus?” “Oh no, Gussy dear, I should be sorry to suppose such a thing; but you know the lesson by which I profited was learned in your home. There I saw how well your father could enact the tyrant, and how your gentle mother was treated like a slave; and I silently resolved, that from the hour we were married, I would be mistress in my own house.” “Where is the use of repeating that nonsense continually? I have heard the same story a dozen times before.” “And shall hear it a dozen times again, or at least as often as I hear the word _must_ from your lips, Mr. Tremaine. But come, you have not yet told me why you were so angry when I came in. Let me see,” she continued, taking up the newspaper, “let me see whether this will not solve the mystery. Ah, now I have it—Robert Dunning, Esq.!” “Yes, now you have it—that upstart, whom I so hate—to see his name paraded in this manner before the public, is enough to drive me mad.” “No wonder you hate him, Gus. Only to think of his being retained as counsel for the heirs of old Latrobe, and gaining the suit by which you lost one hundred thousand dollars! Now this reminds me of what I heard yesterday, that Dunning was about to be married to Fanny Austin.” “Nonsense, Sophia, the Austins move in the first circles.” “So they do, my dear, but Fanny has strange ideas, and there is no knowing what freak she may perform. However, I shall drive there today, and ask her about it. I ordered the carriage at one—ah! there it is—will you assist me with my cloak, Mr. Tremaine, or shall I ring for my maid? Thank you—thank you—I don’t know when I shall return.” “And I don’t care,” muttered her husband as she drove from the door. For a few moments he stood under the heavy crimson curtains at the window, looking listlessly in the direction in which the carriage had gone, and then taking his hat and cane left the house.