LOVER AND HUSBAND A Novel BY ENNIS GRAHAM “The history is a tragedy as all human histories are.” CARLYLE'S MIRABEAU. IN THREE VOLUMES VOLUME I. LONDON: CHARLES J. SKEET, 10, KING WILLIAM STREET CHARING CROSS 1870 (All Rights reserved.) CONTENTS OF VOL. I. CHAPTER I.ANTECEDENTS II.ACROSS THE CHANNEL III.BLUE SKIES IV.A FRIEND IN NEED V.AU LION D’OR VI.FLORENCE VII.THE LITTLE GOVERNESS VIII.BEAUTY AND THE BEAST IX.“DE CAP A TU SOY MARION” X.A SUDDEN RECALL XI.THE LAST AFTERNOON ON THE TERRACE CONTENTS OF VOL. II. CHAPTER I.AN EVENTFUL RAMBLE II.MORE THAN HALF WAY III.“FROM WANDERING ON A FOREIGN STRAND” IV.THE END OF SEPTEMBER V.ORPHANED VI.MALLINGFORD AND AUNT TREMLETT VII.GREY DAYS VIII.AND RALPH? IX.RALPH (continued) X.THE BEGINNING OF THE END XI.VERONICA’S COUNCIL CONTENTS OF VOL. III. CHAPTER I.THE GARDEN AT THE “PEACOCK.” II.THE BITTERNESS OF DEATH III.THE END OF THE HONEYMOON IV.“AT HOME” V.A WIFELY WELCOME VI.A CRISIS VII.A FRIEND IN DISGUISE VIII.COTTON CHEZ SOI IX.“GOODBYE AND A KISS” X.LITTLE MARY’S ADVENT XI.MARION’S DREAM XII.GEOFFREY’S WIDOW CHAPTER I. ANTECEDENTS. “———The children of one mother, You could not say in one short day, What love they bore each other.” WORDSWORTH. LONDON in September. A dull, close, airless day. The streets would have been dusty enough too, no doubt, had there been a breath to stir the dust, which one felt instinctively, was lying there in masses, ready on the slightest provocation to rise in choking clouds. A day when one longed for the sea, or failing that, for a breeze of fresh air. A day when one could hardly believe in the reality of cool green fields, or babbling, trickling brooks. Not that it was so much hot, for there was little sun, as dry, and heavy, and intensely dull. Dull everywhere, but especially so in one of the somewhat old-fashioned, but unmistakably respectable squares of which there are not a few in London, so much resembling each other as to require no special description. The square at this season looked its very dullest and ugliest; under these circumstances, I should suppose, the more nearly fulfilling the aim, as regards outward appearance, of the melancholy architects who planned it. Half the houses were shut-up, and of the remainder, several were evidently shortly about to be so, for in some, hot and dusty housemaids were to be seen pulling down window curtains, and in one or two more an acute observer, by dint of a little peeping, might have discovered business-like trunks and carpet-bags ready packed and strapped for starting, or else gaping open while undergoing the mysterious process called “airing,” in some of the lower regions where such domestic rites are usually performed.