Christobelle stared at Thompson's disclosure; but she was dressed for departure, and appeared anxious to be gone. Christobelle said her mother would miss her services, and who was to succeed her in performing those which Lady Wetheral required? Thompson smiled. "My dear Miss Chrystal, my lady will not be very much surprised, for I have threatened some time to leave suddenly. I have been baited like a bull, these two months, about Mr. Daniel; and yet, miss, the church enjoins matrimony to servants as well as other people. Mr. Daniel quotes St. Paul, to prove the thing. However, I decline any more controversy; for, my lady, she loses her temper now: therefore, I shall be much obliged by your informing her of this step." Christobelle gave the required assurance, that she would herself name the affair to her mother; and Thompson, after making her adieus, and repeating the pleasure she should feel in receiving Miss Chrystal to tea, quitted Wetheral and its eventful scenes, to seek a new home, and become the property of Daniel Higgins. Christobelle was reading with her father a scene in Macbeth, when Lady Wetheral entered. She had returned from Ripley; and the extreme paleness of her countenance, her trembling hands, and quivering lip, announced some fearful accident or event. She laid her hand upon her husband's shoulder, and looked in his face, but did not utter a word. Sir John grasped her hands, and bade her be composed; but his lady's distress prevented all utterance for some moments: at length, a deep sob relieved her, and she spoke in hurried accents-- "John--the brute has beaten her!" Sir John feared his lady's intellects were shaken by some horrible accident: he again took both her hands, and seated her, beseeching her to gain calmness, and explain the cause of her agitation. Lady Wetheral placed her hand upon her heart, and wept for some time in silence. It was distressing to look upon her, suffering, without possessing a knowledge of its cause, or being able to soothe its violence. A pause ensued, till the paroxysm of weeping relieved her heart, and enabled her to account for the extraordinary emotion. She took her husband's hand, and spoke in broken sentences. "John, I did not believe Sir Foster's temper was so bad as people represented--I did not think he would use Clara ill; or, indeed, John, she should never have entered Ripley, to be treated like his spaniel--oh, John!" "Tell me, at once, Gertrude, what you mean," said her husband, calmly.