He by this time was as white as a sheet, otherwise a vein down the centre of his forehead alone betrayed emotion. Whilst Alice was shaking with excitement, he was perfectly cool and self-possessed; but a kind of repressed sound in his voice when he spoke would have told a bystander that his temper was now thoroughly roused, and that _he_ was by far the more incensed of the two. “Lady Fairfax,” he said with emphatic distinctness, “permit me to delay you for one moment,” interposing himself between her and the door. “I quite enter into your wishes. The sooner we part the better. I will have no wife who suspects and despises me. A woman holding such views of my character I have no desire to see again. A wife who is ready to cast me off on the smallest and most unfounded suspicion--who does not even grant me a chance of proving my innocence--but tries, convicts, and condemns me unheard, is no wife for _me_ except in name. I shall make all arrangements for your comfort, but I cannot bring myself to discuss them now. You can remain here till our future plans are arranged. Your father’s daughter occupies the same position beneath this roof as did my mother, although you may pretend to think otherwise. Had I been as wise a year ago as I am _now_, your father’s daughter would never have been my _wife_.” Taking up the certificate and the ring, he turned and walked out of the room without another word. On his way across the hall he was waylaid by Geoffrey, who sprang on him from the billiard-room and seized him by the arm, saying: “Well, Rex, I suppose she has told you?” “She has,” replied Reginald, shaking him off impatiently as he entered the library and threw himself into an armchair. “I don’t believe one word of it, mind you, Rex; and as for Alice, she is nothing but a silly girl, with a hot temper. It all blows over. I know her rages well,” he added consolingly. “Don’t talk to me now, there’s a good fellow,” returned Sir Reginald, jumping up and pacing the room. “Run down and tell them to bring round ‘Dragon’ and the dog-cart, and to put in my portmanteau just as it came.” “Why so, in the name of all that’s mad?” “I’m off to London by the mail.” “Are you in your sober senses, Reginald?” exclaimed Geoffrey, looking at him aghast. “I scarcely know,” he returned, wearily passing his hand across his forehead; “but I am quite certain of one thing, and that is, that Alice and I have parted for ever.” CHAPTER VII. WESSEX GARDENS.