The earl stalked into the library in a state, not only of high irritation and annoyance, but also of considerable perplexity. Annabella had never before appeared to him so utterly regardless of his wishes and feelings, so completely destitute of a sense of what was due to her position. To invite low people—for such, he thought, that her guests assuredly must be—to share her meal, to be introduced to her husband, it was an offence scarcely to be forgiven! And what was to be done on the present occasion? Dashleigh had, on that morning, casually met and invited a duke! It would be impossible to insult a man of his quality by making him sit at the same table with such _canaille_! The idea of such a breach of etiquette was abhorrent to the feelings of the aristocrat, and yet, how was the reality to be avoided? Annabella had invited her own friends, and the earl was too much of a gentleman to be willing to commit any decided breach of courtesy towards his wife’s guests, even though they might have come in a donkey conveyance. We talk of the _petty_ miseries of pride; to Dashleigh the misery was not petty. It was with feelings of serious annoyance that he rang his library bell, and bade the servant who answered it request his lady to speak with the earl directly. The message was carried to Annabella while she was pursuing with the doctor a playful argument on some literary question. “Is the earl aware that I am engaged with guests?” asked the incautious countess. “His lordship knows who is here,” replied the servant. Annabella instantly perceived her mistake, for she saw the blood mount to the cheek of the sensitive old Doctor. His pride was evidently on the _qui vive_; and it served to awaken hers. The countess felt somewhat disposed to return to her liege lord such an answer as Horatio received from his widow. She had no inclination to play Griselda in the presence of her early friends. She contented herself, however, with showing that she was in no haste to obey the summons of her titled husband, and finished her discussion before (after apologizing to the Bardons for a brief absence) she proceeded to the library, where her indignant lord was impatiently awaiting her. Dr. Bardon walked up to the window with his hands behind him, and waited for a space in silence. Cecilia saw by the motion of his feet that a storm was brewing in the air. Presently he turned suddenly round with the question: “Do you suppose that this earl means to make his appearance?” “Ye-e-es,” replied Cecilia timidly.