“No, Mrs. Sundon,” declared the young man quickly, and with pain in his moodiness. “I shall not allow such sacrilege for my fancied needs, and I should be an ingrate to deny your request as you put it, however difficult it may seem to me. I give you my word, as you desire, without farther parley—and now you will permit me to take my leave.” The moment he was gone, Lady Bell asked with a puzzled, pensive, rather scared anxiety, “Will he keep his word, think you?” “I hope and trust he will,” replied Mrs. Sundon, looking troubled still; “granting that it will cost him a great effort, he is manly and honourable enough in his youth to make such an effort; and he has not seen much bad company, that is a blessing, to corrupt him from the beginning. Poor boy! he was so happy when he came in, and we disappointed and mortified him. Do you know how he will regard me from this hour, Bell?” Mrs. Sundon inquired abruptly, with a certain wistfulness and piteousness for herself thrilling through her tones. “He is not bumptious or quarrelsome, he is a fine, warm-hearted, good-natured lad, but he will begin to hate the sight of me.” “No, no,” exclaimed Lady Bell energetically. “Yes, yes,” contradicted Mrs. Sundon quietly, shaking her head, “I know all about it. A man pretends sometimes to call a woman his mistress, but he cannot forgive her, if she ever really play the part. He will excuse almost any error in a woman sooner than her finding him wrong, and telling him so. She has humbled him then in his own eyes, and he cares for that still more than being humbled in hers. She becomes irksome to him, and he half fears her, half strives to deceive her, himself sinking lower and lower till he ends by hating her outright. When you marry again, Bell, if your main object be to preserve your husband’s love, fondle and defer to him, and never admit by word or look that you recognise he has forfeited your esteem, as well as that of every honest man and woman, and is on the high road to destruction, carrying you and your unborn child along with him.” “I shall do nothing of the kind,” protested Lady Bell, half crying at the idea. “I shall speak the truth and clear my conscience, whether I shame the devil or no. But on second thoughts, I shall not need, for I shall never think of marrying again and leaving you and little Caro, and ending our happy life here, dear,” declared Lady Bell, turning eagerly to caress her friend. “You will not think of it perhaps, but you will do it all the same,” said Mrs. Sundon as she gave back the caress; “however, we may let sleeping dogs lie and not anticipate evil. To return to Master Charles; see if he do not avoid me from this day.”