Mr. Noble walks up and down the floor with folded arms, in deep agitation. "It would be quite impossible to procure a divorce," he answers, after a moment's thought. "I could assign no earthly cause for demanding one. I married her of my own free will, though I admit I was unduly persuaded." "All she cares for is your money," snaps Ivy, quite ignoring the fact that this was her own motive for winning him. "It will kill me if you take her home with you, Leslie. I shall die of a broken heart." "Poor, deceived dear," sighs her mother, while Leslie breaks out, ruefully: "What else can I possibly do, Ivy?" Mrs. Cleveland, who had been silently cogitating, answers with sudden blandness: "If you want my advice, Leslie, you shall have it, unfairly as you have treated us. I say the girl is ignorant and uneducated, and quite unfit to become the mistress of your elegant home in Philadelphia. If you are compelled to stick to your unlucky bargain, you must try and make the best of it. You will have to put her into a strict convent school where her ill-nature will be tamed down, and her manners educated up to the proper standard for your wife. How do you like that plan?" Her magnetic gaze is fixed on Ivy as she speaks, compelling her to be silent, though she was raising her shrill voice in protest. "Would they be harsh with her?" Leslie asks anxiously, some instinct of pity for the orphan girl struggling blindly in his heart. "Not at all. I was educated at a convent school myself. I liked it very much. But you will have to be very positive about Vera, to induce her to go. She will wheedle you out of the notion if possible. Raw, untrained girl as she is, she thinks she is quite capable of doing anything, or filling any position. But if you listen to _her_, you will find yourself mortified and disgraced directly," blandly insinuates the wily woman. Leslie Noble winces as she had meant he should. He is very proud and sensitive, this rich, handsome man who finds himself placed, through his weakness, in such a sore strait. "I think your plan is a very good one," he says, hastily. "Do you know where there is a school, such as you named just now?" "I can give you the address of one in Maryland," Mrs. Cleveland answers, readily. "I will go there to-morrow and make arrangements for her reception as a pupil," he replies. "Would it be better to apprise her of my intention beforehand?" he inquires with some embarrassment. "No, decidedly not. She might find means to circumvent you. She is a very sharp witted girl. Merely tell her that you are called away unexpectedly, on business, and that you will leave her in my charge until you return." "Would it be agreeable to you to have her stay that long?" he queries. Mrs. Cleveland smiles a little grimly. "Of course, as your wife, Vera may expect every courtesy from me," she answers in a strange kind of voice, and there the conference ends.