"You will not allow your wife to be a burthen to her friends, Sir Foster, since you received ten thousand pounds as her portion?" "Let her stay at home, then, and behave." "My daughter is wrong, Sir Foster; I cannot excuse Lady Kerrison, but I am willing to receive her at Wetheral, to prevent the unpleasant recurrence of domestic quarrels. You will make your lady a stated allowance?" "Take her clothes--nothing more, Sir John." "This is a most painful and disagreeable task," observed Sir John; "but I must insist upon an allowance for Lady Kerrison, before I withdraw her from Ripley." Sir Foster chuckled and winked, as he repeated, "not a halfpenny--not a penny; let her take her clothes, and set off." "I cannot take Lady Kerrison from your house, without a proper understanding that an allowance shall be paid to her regularly, Sir Foster." "Then let her stay at home, and behave." Since the resolutions of Sir Foster could not be shaken, her father resolved to seek an interview with Clara, and represent to her reason the turpitude of her conduct as a wife, and the punishment which must accrue to her in the lost affections of her husband, and the disesteem of her friends. Lady Kerrison was accordingly summoned to meet him in her husband's presence. Clara entered the room with an air of haughty defiance, which vanished at the sight of her father. She rushed to him with open arms. "My dear father, take me away from this ruffian--I beseech you to take me away!" Sir Foster winked and tapped his boot at the sight of his lady, but he offered no opinion during the dialogue which ensued between the father and daughter. It seemed as if Sir Foster Kerrison had no power to understand, or feeling to be interested in any thing which had not a direct reference to himself. Sir John Wetheral led Clara to a chair, and spoke in tones of deep sorrow upon the subject which concerned so nearly her respectability and happiness. "I did not think, Lady Kerrison, I should be doomed, by a child's forgetfulness to her duty, to become a party against her. Report has loudly declared what I have unfortunately witnessed more than once at Ripley--that it has become the scene of a wife's altercation with her husband." "It is the scene of a brute's treatment of an unfortunate creature in his power," retorted Clara--"it is the scene of violence, blasphemy, and disgust. I desire to be taken from this hateful place, and I will never see it more!" "What has made you so forgetful of the duty you decided so rashly upon assuming, Clara, when you fled from your father's house?..." "I know I did--I know I did!" shrieked Clara--"God help me! I did leave my father's house, but my mother helped my flight, and beset me with her persuasions to marry that monster. She caused the mischief, and she must bear the blame. Who else had power to lead me into this horrible snare, or direct my thoughts to wretchedness?" Sir John Wetheral was greatly distressed.