"What am I to do?" asked his wife, in a tone of distress. "What do I care? I feed and clothe you because you are my wife. I told you before I have not married your sister, and I will have nothing to do with her." "I must go and see her, then, and make some arrangement for her," said Margaret, turning away. "Not so fast," he said, while a laugh rang through the room that made her shiver again. "You do not go out again without _me_. I can tell you I am not going to allow a wretched stick of a fellow to run about with my wife any more--no, no!" For one second, fear lest Sir Albert's escort should have been known to him--in itself so innocent, but perhaps she now thought imprudent--she coloured a little, and he noticed it, and it increased his rage. "Mr. Lyons never shall have the pleasure of escorting you again," he said. "I will take care of that. Darby and Joan--Darby and Joan!" and another wild burst of laughter rang out. Margaret left him to think over her next step, and to send Grace a few lines to account for her non-appearance. She resolved to write to Mrs. Dorriman, and to lay before her something of her sad position. The whole truth she could not bring herself to put down. But time went on; she got no letter from Grace nor from Mrs. Dorriman. Her husband seemed to spend his whole time in watching her, and if she attempted to go out he was beside her. She appealed to the man-servant, but he told her he was only there to see that her husband did not go out alone, and did not drink, for nothing else; that he could not interfere. "I cannot aid and abet you, madam," he said; "it _may_ be your sister, again it may not be, and if something comes of it, it will not look well for _me_." Margaret's indignant young face quelled him, and he stopped short. She was perfectly helpless. She could wander in the grounds, and see little of her husband. She could spend hours with her child, but she never could go out. She felt that this was indeed a prison, and she a prisoner! She had not even the comfort of knowing that Grace had got her letters, since she received no answer; then she was terrified lest Grace should write and say something in her letter about Mr. Drayton. She was utterly wretched about her; her nurse was a timid woman, and she had had one rebuff; she was afraid of altering her position towards her, and altogether the poor thing did not know what to do. She was standing near the front door watching her baby go out into the garden when the front door bell rang violently, so loudly as to make her start. Before it could be opened the key had to be obtained from Mr. Drayton. When it was answered, Margaret, who had paused a little from curiosity, waited to see who could come to this sad and forlorn place. To her amazement she saw Sir Albert Gerald. He saw her, and before any conventional denial could be given he sprang forward and greeted her joyfully.