wished them to see that I was no sentimental wife devoted to an unfaithful husband." "But, my dearest Florence, was it wise to sacrifice your own self-respect in order to gratify your pride?" "I have no self-respect. I have never respected myself since I married Mr. Lobyer. Oh Cecil, there is nothing that has ever been written about such marriages too strong or too bitter for their iniquity. We sell ourselves like slaves, and when the bargain is completed, we hate the master who has bought us. Don't kiss me, Cecil. I am not worthy that any good woman's lips should touch mine. I have sold myself to a man whom I despised before I hated him; and now that it is too late I repent of my wickedness." "But if Mr. Lobyer outrages you by association with such a woman as that person we saw to-day, you may be released from this unhappy union. You have only to appeal to your father, Florence; surely he can help you." "Yes, he can take me back to the Fountains, to be the laughing-stock of every body who ever knew me before my marriage. Ah, how the manœuvring mothers and husband-hunting daughters would triumph if they could discover that my brilliant match had ended in failure and misery! No, Cecil, I must abide by the bargain I have made for myself; and, after all, I cannot complain that I am cheated. I sold myself for diamonds, and carriages, and horses, and servants; and Mr. Lobyer has given them to me. I told you it would be a bad thing for me when I came to talk seriously of things. I must take life lightly, Cecil, like other women who marry for money And now _parlons toilette_; tell me how you like my dress to-night. Is that blue a good candle-light colour? I had awful doubts on the subject. If there were any green tinges in it, I must have looked hideous." After this Cecil tried in vain to bring her friend back to any thing like serious conversation. Mrs. Lobyer chattered as gaily as if no sorrow had ever shadowed her life, and the dim winter daylight glimmered coldly behind the rose-tinted curtains before Cecil could induce her to retire. They separated at last, however, after kissing each other affectionately: and Florence Lobyer's grand field-night came to a close. * * * * * After the amateur theatricals, there was a little lull at Pevenshall. Mrs. Lobyer kept her room for a day or two, attended constantly by Lady Cecil O'Boyneville. Medical wisdom pronounced that she had over fatigued herself, and ordered extreme quiet. But to endure such a regimen as the doctor prescribed for more than eight and forty hours was quite beyond Florence's patience. On the evening of the second day she reappeared in the drawing-room, paler than usual, and all the more fascinating by reason of that delicate pallor.