“Yes,” continued he, as though responding to this evidence of emotion on her part,--“yes; it pushed one's patience pretty hard to be obliged to sit under such criticism.” “And what obliged you, sir? was it fear?” “Yes, Madam, you have guessed it. I was afraid--terribly afraid to own I was your husband.” A low faint groan was all she uttered, as she covered her face with her hands. “I had next,” continued he, “to listen to a dispute as to whether Trafford had ever seriously offered to run away with you or not. It was almost put to the vote. Faith, I believe my casting voice might have carried the thing either way if I had only known how to give it.” She murmured something too low to be heard correctly, but he caught at part of it, and said: “Well, that was pretty much what I suspected. The debate was, however, adjourned; and as Cave called me by my name at the moment, the confidences came to an abrupt conclusion. As I foresaw that these youngsters, ignorant of life and manners as they were, would be at once for making apologetic speeches and such-like, I stole away and came home, _more domestico_, to ruminate over my enjoyments at my own fireside.” “I trust, sir, they were strangers to your own delinquencies. I hope they had no unpleasant reminders to give you of yourself.” “Pardon, Madam. They related several of what you pleasantly call my delinquencies, but they only came in as the by-play of the scene where you were the great character. We figured as brigands. It was _you_ always who stunned the victim; _I_ only rifled his pockets--fact, I assure you. I'm sorry that china is smashed. It was Saxe,--wasn't it?” She nodded. “And a present of Trafford's too! What a pity! I declare I believe we shall not have a single relic of the dear fellow, except it be a protested bill or two.” He paused a moment or so, and then said, “Do you know, it just strikes me that if they saw how ill--how shamefully you played your cards in this Trafford affair, they 'd actually absolve you of all the Circe gifts the world ascribes to you.” She fixed her eyes steadfastly on him, and as her clasped hands dropped on her knees, she leaned forward and said: “What do you mean by it? What do you want by this? If these men, whose insolent taunts you had not courage to arrest or to resent, say truly, whose the fault? Ay, sir, whose the fault? Answer me, if you dare, and say, was not my shame incurred to cover and conceal _yours?_” “Your tragedy-queen airs have no effect upon me. I 've been too long behind the scenes to be frightened by stage thunder. What is past is past. You married a gambler; and if you shared his good luck, you oughtn't to grumble at partaking his bad fortune. If you had been tired of the yoke, I take it you 'd have thrown it behind you many a day ago.” “If I had not done so, you know well why,” said she, fiercely.