The interruption made me laugh. My Lord Level's state carriage and powdered servants at that poor fugitive's door! "My dear, we must go in the quietest manner. We will take a cab as we walk along, and get out of it before turning into the street where he is lying. Change this blue silk for one of the plainest dresses that you have, and wear a close bonnet and a veil." "Oh, of course; I see. Charles, I am too thoughtless." "Wait an instant," I said, arresting her as she was crossing the room. "I must return for a moment to our controversy touching your husband. You complained bitterly of him last year for secluding you in dull, remote parts of the Continent, and especially for keeping you away from England. You took up the notion, and proclaimed it to those who would listen to you, that it was to serve his own purposes. Do you remember this?" "Well?" said Blanche timidly, her colour coming and going as she stood with her hands on the table. "He did keep me away; he did seclude me." "It was done out of love for you, Blanche. Whilst your heart felt nothing but reproach for him, his was filled with care and consideration for you; where to keep you, how to guard you from hearing of the disgrace and trouble that had overtaken your brother. _We_ knew--I and Mr. Brightman--Lord Level's motive; and Major Carlen knew. I believe Level would have given years of his life to save you from the knowledge always and secure you peace. Now, Blanche, my dear, as you perceive that, at least in that one respect, you misjudged him then, do you not think you may be misjudging him still?" She burst into tears. "No, I don't think so," she said. "I wish I could think so. You know that he maintains some dreadful secret at Marshdale; and that--that--wicked Italians are often staying there--singers perhaps; I shouldn't wonder; or ballet-dancers--anyway, people who can have no right and no business to be there. You know that one of them stabbed him--Oh yes, she did, and it was a woman with long hair." "I do not know anything of the kind." "Charles, you look at me reproachfully, as if the blame lay with me instead of him. Can't you see what a misery it all is for me, and that it is wearing my life away?" she cried passionately, the tears falling from her eyes. "I would rather _die_ than separate from him, if I were not forced to it by the goings on at that wretched Marshdale. What will life be worth to me, parted from him? I look forward to it with a sick dread. Charles, I do indeed; and now, when I know--what--is perhaps--coming----" Blanche suddenly crossed her arms upon the table, hid her face upon them, and sobbed bitterly. "What is perhaps coming?" "I'm afraid it is, Charles." "But what is?" "An heir, perhaps." It was some moments before I took in the sense of the words. Then I laughed. "Oh well, Blanche! Of course you ought to talk of separation with _that_ in prospect! Go and put your things on, you silly child: the evening is wearing away."