She stood by him as he spoke, in the excitement of his feelings he had taken her hand and clasped it in his own. At this moment two figures, which had been pausing at the door of the boudoir, passed hastily on--by the rustling of the dress, one of them was evidently a woman. “But now hear me once more,” he continued, raising himself, and regarding her kindly but steadily; “I am sorry, very sorry, to find that you have not yet overcome--however, we will not allude to that--if at any time you want a _friend’s_ advice or assistance, apply to me: my purse, I need scarcely say, is always at your command; in fact, as I am well-off, and you unfortunately are not, I think it is an over-refined though generous scruple, which prevents you from allowing me to assist you as I might and wish to do. Why do not you remember and strive to follow my advice? You are still in a dependent situation quite unworthy of you; while you have talents and powers which, if you would employ them in some straightforward, honest avocation--instead of forming plans and seeking objects of, to say the least, questionable advisability--would secure you a respectable and comfortable position. Think of all this, dear Arabella, and then apply to me, as to an old friend, to advance you funds to carry out my ideas in any way which seems to you most advisable.” For a moment she remained silent; then bending over him, so that her ringlets mingled with his dark curling hair, she murmured-- “You are good, and kind, and generous, as you ever were; and--yes, I _will_ strive to make myself worthy of your friendship; if I fail, you know my impulsive, passionate nature, and you will pardon, not condemn me; for my _greatest sorrow_, you now know how to pity me! You say you intend to leave London to-morrow, and I think it will be wise in you to do so--perhaps we may never meet again, and so, my dear, dear friend, farewell!” He had retained her hand, and she returned his cordial, warm pressure; then, by a sudden impulse, she stooped, pressed her pale lips upon his high, smooth brow, and--was gone. Harry followed her with his glance as she left the room. “Poor thing!” he murmured, “she has many high qualities; and such a life as she leads must be a complete purgatory to her proud, impetuous disposition; I hope she will fall into good hands, and--and keep out of my way. Alice evidently dislikes and suspects her, and nothing I can say is likely to lessen the feeling. Now for taking my poor, dear, naughty, foolish, little wife home, and lecturing her. She seemed angry with me; because I did not arrive in time to accompany her to the ball, I suppose--as if I could prevent railway-trains from breaking down!--ah, it’s wretched, miserable work all of it!” Having arrived at this cheerful conclusion, Harry rose and proceeded in search of his wife.