Will’s face burned bright red. If his own sister spoke thus, what things could he expect the outer world to say of his stainless Linnet. “You forget,” he said, a little angrily, “the Apostle advises, too, in the self-same passage, that a bishop should be given to hospitality; and that his wife should be grave; not a slanderer; sober and faithful in all things. I came to you to-night hoping you would extend that hospitality to an injured wife who desires to take refuge blamelessly from an unworthy husband. If you refuse her such aid, you are helping in so far to drive her into evil courses. I asked you as my sister; I’m sorry you’ve refused me.” “But, my dear boy,” Maud began, “you must see for yourself that for a clergyman’s wife to have her name mixed up—oh, good gracious, there’s the bell! They’re coming, Will, I’m sure. I must rush up this very moment, and put on my bodice at once. Thank goodness, Arthur, you’re dressed, or what ever should I do? Stop down here and receive them.” “Then you absolutely refuse?” Will cried, as she fled, scuffling, woman-wise, to the door. “I absolutely refuse!” Maud answered from the landing. “I’m surprised that you should even dream of asking your sister to take into her house, under circumstances like these, a runaway actress-woman!” And, with a glance towards the hall, she scurried hastily upstairs, with the shuffling gait of a woman surprised, to her own bedroom. Mechanically, Will shook hands with that irreproachable Arthur Sartoris, passed the Dean, all wrinkled smiles, in the vestibule below, and returned again with a hot heart to his waiting hansom. “Hans Place, Chelsea!” he cried through the flap: and the cabman drove him straight to Rue’s miniature palace. Mrs Palmer was at home; yes, sir; but she was dressing for dinner. “Say I must see her at once!” Will cried with a burst. And in less than half-a-minute Rue descended, looking sweet, to him. She had thrown a light tea-gown rapidly around her to come down; her hair was just knotted in a natural coil on top; she was hardly presentable, she said, with an apologetic smile, and a quick glance at the glass; but Will thought he had never seen her look prettier or more charming in all his life than she looked that moment. “I wouldn’t keep you waiting, Will,” she cried, seizing both his hands in hers. “I knew if you called at this unusual hour, you must want to see me about something serious.” “It _is_ serious,” Will answered, with a very grave face. “Rue, I’ve something to tell you that may surprise you much. That wretch Hausberger has been very, very cruel to Linnet. He’s offered her bodily violence to-day. And that’s not all;—she has proof, written proof of his intimacy with Philippina. He’s thrown her on the floor, and struck her and bruised her. So she’s left him at once—and she’s now at my chambers.”