And so strange is it, that great events of our lives are the offspring of some momentary inspiration, or thoughtlessly uttered word, that, until that instant, Tremenhere had not dreamed of quitting England; and, from that hour, an insurmountable desire seized upon him to leave London, the villa--all which had become hateful to him. His wishes were laws to Minnie. She would gladly have seen her aunts again--have been friends with her uncle before leaving; consequently she wrote, imploring pardon of the two hearts in rebellion against her, and begging aunt Dorcas to come and see her. But even this was denied her. Dorcas had been made to suffer so severely by the other two on the occasion of the former visit, that she deemed it better not to enrage them further by coming; but to remain, and patiently work for Minnie's future pardon. She wrote most affectionately, and completely repudiated every thought of her niece's impropriety of conduct, which had been imparted to Juvenal by his friend, Marmaduke Burton. On this subject, too, Tremenhere wrote to Minnie's uncle, and detailed the whole affair as it had occurred, not forgetting the last discomfiture of his enemy in the exposure at the club. Whatever Juvenal's opinions might have been, had he permitted them full play, is uncertain; for he was one of those narrow-minded, prejudiced persons, who, having espoused an idea, find it completely out of the pale of their governing law to divorce it from their belief. Minnie was guilty--she must be guilty; Burton said she was. She had been imprudent once, and consequently, assuredly, would be again; in short, prejudice, with its narrow ideas and venomed breath, stood between poor Minnie and her home. Juvenal might have forgiven, if left to himself, for sometimes a memory would come over him of her gentle tones, her loving, girlish heart; besides which, he could not refuse to believe all Tremenhere wrote--there was evidence and proof; though he left the letter unanswered, it influenced his mind in his niece's favour. Gillett too spoke, and at last decidedly, in the rejected one's favour; but to counteract these healthful influences, came the soured heart, and acrid tongue, of one who hated Minnie for entering that state without her permission, which, in the whole course of her own life, no one had ever held open the door to, though but a little ajar, for her to peep into--matrimony. Not a soul had once said a civil, or even word of doubtful meaning, for her to build a hope or an hour's dream upon, and she felt a double pleasure in stamping Minnie with her reprehension and condemnation. So she, poor girl, bade adieu to their pretty villa and England, to seek peace and happiness in a stranger land, with the one whom she loved as freshly and well as on the day she vowed to leave all for his sake. Skaife had returned, after a few weeks' absence, to his duties, near Minnie's childhood's home; but his heart was heavy.