Left alone, Janet again read the letter she had received from her father, though she hardly needed this, for she pretty well knew it by heart. Then, laying it on the table again for her husband to see, she sat thinking of what might have been, and contrasted the brothers, her brow wrinkling up as she felt that day by day she was sounding some deeper depth, and finding but a fresh meanness in Jessop's nature. "But it was only right after all," she told herself; and she went over again the scene in Guildford Street, the hot jealous blood rising to her cheeks, as she thought of Lyddy and her acts and words. "I could never have forgiven that. Poor father does not believe he was guilty, or else looks upon the offence with the eyes of a man." She started up listening, for a cab had stopped at the gate, and her first impulse was to go to the door; but she sank back wearily, and listened for the clang of the gate and the rattle of the latch-key in the door. She had not long to wait, and she was preparing herself for her husband's coming, when the door was shut loudly. There was a scuffling sound in the little hall, and as she turned pale with alarm, dreading some new trouble, there was a strange voice. The door was flung open, and, supported by his friend Wrigley, Jessop Reed staggered into the room. Both men were in evening dress, Wrigley's faultless, his glass in his eye, and the flower in his button-hole unfaded, while Jessop's shirt front was crumpled and wine-stained, and his flushed face told of the number of times the glass had been raised to his lips. As he entered the little drawing-room he made a staggering lurch towards a chair, and would have fallen, as his hat did, but for the tight hold which Wrigley kept of his arm. "Now, then," he cried resentfully; "what's the matter? Don't get hauling a man all over the room like that." "Really I am very sorry," said Wrigley, guiding Jessop into the chair and taking off his hat, "but the fact is, Mrs Reed, Jessop here was quite out of order when I met him this evening to attend a dinner at the Crystal Palace." "Yes. Dinner at Crystal Palace. But that'll do. You leave my wife alone, Mr Solicitor." "Yes, yes, dear boy. Let me get you up to bed." "What for? I'm all right." "You will be after a night's rest, my dear Jessop. There's nothing much the matter, Mrs Reed. Pray don't be alarmed. The wine was rather bad, too. I really think I drank more of it than he did." Janet was standing looking from one to the other with her eyes full of the misery and despair in her breast. Miserable as her life had been, full of bickering and quarrel, reproach and neglect, she had never yet seen her husband like this; and for a few moments she was ready to believe in his companion's words. "Have you a little soda-water in the house?" said Wrigley. "Yes; bring some soda-water and the brandy," cried Jessop, with an idiotic laugh which contradicted all that his friend had said.