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MAN AND WIFE

BY WILKIE. COLLINS,

AUTHOR OF

'THE WOMAN IN WHITE," "NO NAME," "ARMADALE," "THE MOONSTONE," "c.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.

NEW YORK:

HARPER " BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,

FRANKLIN SQUARE.

1870.

BY WILKIE COLLINS.

Of all the living writers of English fictionno one

better understands the art of story-telling than Wilkie Collins.

He hasa

faculty of coloring the mystery of a plot, exciting terror, pity, curiosity, and other passions, such as belongs

to few, if any,of his confreres, however much they may excel

him in other respects. His style, too, is singularly ap-propriate

"

less forced and artificial than theaverage

modern novelists."

Boston Transcript.

MAN AND WIFE. A Novel. With Illustrations. 8vo, Paper, $i oo; Cloth, $i 50.

THE MOONSTONE. A Novel. With Illustrations. 8vo, Paper, |i 50 ;Cloth, $2

oo.

ARMADALE. A Novel. With Illustrations. 8vo, Paper, $i 60; Cloth, $2oo.

NO NAME. A Novel. Illustrated by JOHN McLENAN. 8vo, Paper, $i 50; Cloth, $2 oo.

THE WOMAN IN WHITE. A Novel. Illustrated by JOHN McLENAN. 8vo, Paper, "i 50 ;

Cloth, $2oo.

THE QUEEN OF HEARTS. A Novel.I2mo,

Cloth, $i 50.

ANTONINA; or,

The Fall of Rome. A Romance of the Fifth Century. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents.

PUBLISHEDBY

HARPER " BROTHERS, NEW YORK.

Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any partof the United States, on receipt of the price.

MAN AND WIFE.

PROLOGUE." THE IRISH MARRIAGE.

$art tfjeJFtrst,

THE VILLA AT HAMPSTEAD.

I.

ON a summer's morning, between thirtyand

fortyyears ago, two girlswere crying bitterlyinthe cabin of an East Indian passenger ship,bound outward, from Gravesend to Bombay.

They were both of the same age " eighteen.

They had both, from childhood upward, been

close and dear friends at the same school. Theywere now partingfor the first time " and parting,it might be, for life.

The name of one was Blanche. The name of

the other was Anne.

Both were the children of poor parents ; both

had been pupil-teachersat the school ; and both

were destined to earn their own bread. Person-ally

speaking,and sociallyspeaking,these werethe only points of resemblance between them.

Blanche was passablyattractive and passablyintelligent,and no more. Anne was rarelybeau-tiful

and rarely endowed. Blanche's parentswere worthy people,whose first consideratio*n

was to secure, at any sacrifice,the future well-

being of their child. Anne's parents were heart-less

and depraved. Their one idea, in connec-tionwith their daughter, was to speculateon her

beauty,and to turn her abilities to profitableac-count.

The girlswere starting in life under widelydifferent conditions. Blanche was going to In-dia,

to be governess in the household of a Judge,under care of the Judge's wife. Anne was towait at home until the first opportunityofferedof sending her cheaply to Milan. There, amongstrangers, she was to be perfectedin the actress'sand the singer'sart ; then to return to England,and make the fortune of her family on the lyric

Such we_re the prospects of the two as theysat together in the cabin of the Indiaman locked

fast in each other's arms, and crying bitterly.The whispered farewell talk exchanged betweenthem " exaggerated and impulsiveas girls'talk is

apt to be " came honestly,in each case, straightfrom the heart.

".Blanche! you may be married in India.

Make your husband bring you back to En-gland."

" Anne ! you may take a dislike to the stage.Come out to India if you do."

"In England or out of England, married or

not married, we will meet, darling" if it's yearshence " with all the old love between us ; friends

A

who help each other,sisters who trust each oth-er,for. life! Vow it,Blanche!"

' ' I vow it,Anne !"

"With all your heart and soul ?"

"With all my heart and soul!"

The sails were spread to the wind, and the

shipbegan to move in the water. It was neces-saryto appeal to. the captain'sauthoritybefore

the girls could be parted. The captain'inter-fered

gentlyand firmly. " Come, my dear,"he

said, puttinghis arm round Anne ;"

you won't

mind me ! I have got a daughter of my own."

Anne's head fell on the sailor's shoulder. He

put her, with his own hands, into the shore-boat

alongside. In five minutes more the shiphad

gathered way ; the boat was at the landing-stage" and the girls had seen the last of each other

for many a long year to come.

This was in the summer of eighteenhundredand thirty-one.

n.

Twenty-four years later " in the summer of

eighteenhundred and fifty-five" there was a villa

at Hampstead to be let,furnished.The house was still occupied by the persons

who desired to let it. On the evening on whichthis scene opens a lady and two gentlemen wereseated at the dinner-table. The lady had reach-ed

the mature age of forty-two. She was stilla

rarely beautiful woman. Her husband, some

years younger than herself,faced her at the ta-ble,

sitting silent and constrained,and never,even by accident,looking at his wife. The third

person was a guest. The husband's name was

Vanborough. The guest'sname was Kendrew.It was the end of the dinner. The fruit and

the wine were on the table. Mr. Vanboroughpushed the bottles in silence to Mr. Kendrew.

The lady of the house looked round at the serv-antwho was waiting,and said, ' ' Tell the chil-dren

to come in."

The door opened, and a girltwelve years old

entered,leading by the hand a younger girloffive. They were both prettilydressed in white,with sashes of the same shade of lightblue. But

there was no familyresemblance between them.

The elder girlwas trail and delicate,with a pale,sensitive face. The younger was lightand florid,with round red cheeks and bright, saucy eyes "

a charming littlepictureof happinessand heajth.Mr. Kendrew looked inquiringlyat the youn-gest

of the two girls." Here is a young lady,"he said,

" who is a

total stranger to me."

' ' If you had not been a total stranger yourselffor a whole year past,"answered Mrs. Vanbor-ough,

"you would never have made that confes-sion.

This is little Blanche " the only child of

10 MAN AND WIFE.

the dearest friend I have. When Blanche's mo-ther

and I last saw each other we were two poor

school-girlsbeginning the world. My friendwent to India,and married there late in life.

You may have heard of her husband " the famous

Indian officer,Sir Thomas Lundie ? Yes :' the

rich Sir Thomas,'

as you callhim. Lady Lundieis now on her way back to England, for the firsttime since she left it" I am afraid to say how

many years since. I expectedher yesterday; I

expect her to-day" she may come at any mo-ment.We exchanged promisesto meet, in the

shipthat took her to India " 'vows' we calledthem in the dear old times. Imagine how

changed we shall find each other when we do

meet again at last!""In the mean time,"said Mr. Kendrew, "your

friend appears to have sent you her littledaugh-terto represent her ? It's a longjourneyfor so

young a traveler."

"A journeyordered by the doctors in India a

year since,"rejoinedMrs. Vanborough." They j

said Blanche's health fequiredEnglishair. SirThomas was illat the time,and his wife couldn'tleave him. She had to send the child to En-gland,

and who should she send her to but me ?

Look at her now, and say ifthe Englishair hasn't

agreed with her ! We two mothers,Mr. Ken-drew,seem literallyto live again in our children.

I have an onlychild. My friend has an onlychild. My daughter is littleAnne " as / was.My friend's daughter is littleBlanche " as shewas. And, to crown it all,those two girlshavetaken the same fancyto each other which wetook to each other in the by-gonedaysat school.One has often heard of hereditaryhatred. Isthere such a thing as hereditarylove as well ?"

Before the guest could answer, his attention

was claimed by the master of the house."Kendrew," said Mr. Vanborough, "when

you have had enough of domestic sentiment,'

suppose you take a glassof wine ?"The words were spokenwith undisguisedcon-tempt

of tone and manner. Mrs. Vanborough'scolor rose. She waited,and controlled the mo-mentary

irritation. When she spoketo her hus-bandit was evidentlywith a wish to soothe and

conciliate him." I am afraid,my dear,you are not well this

evening?""I shall be better when those children have

done clatteringwith their knives and forks. "

The girlswere peelingfruit. The youngerone went on. The elder stopped,and lookedat her mother. Mrs. Vanborough beckoned toBlanche to come to her,and pointedtoward theFrench window opening to the floor.

" Would you like to eat your fruitin the gar-den,Blanche?"

"Yes," said Blanche,"if Anne will go withme."

Anne rose at once, and the two girlswent

away togetherinto the garden,hand in hand.On their departureMr. Kendrew wiselystarteda new subject.He referred to the lettingof thehouse.

"The loss of the garden will be a sad loss tothose two young ladies,"he said.

" It reallyseems to be a pitythat you should be givingupthis prettyplace.

"

" Leaving the house is not the worst of thesacrifice,"answered Mrs. Vanborough. "If

John finds Hampstead too far for him fromLondon, of course we must move. The onlyhardship that I complainof is the hardshipofhaving the house to let."

Mr. Vanborough looked across the table,asungraciouslyas possible,at his wife.

" What have you to do with it?" he asked.Mrs. Vanborough tried to clear the conjugal

horizon by a smile." My dear John,"she said,gently,"you for-getthat,while you are at business,I am here all

day. I can't helpseeingthe peoplewho cometo look at the house. Such people!"she con-tinued,

turning to Mr. Kendrew. "They dis-trust

every thing,from the scraper at the doorto the chimneyson the roof. They force theirway in at all hours. They ask all sorts of im-pudent

questions" and they shqw you plainlythat theydon't mean to believe your answers,before you have time to make them. Some

wretch of a woman says, 'Do you think the

drains are right?'" and sniffs suspiciously,be-foreI can say Yes. Some brute of a man asks,

' Are you quitesure this house is solidlybuilt,ma'am?' " and jumps on the floor at the fullstretch of his legs,without waitingfor me to re-ply.

Nobody believes in our gravelsoil and oursouth aspect. Nobody wants any of our im-provements.

The moment theyhear of John'sArtesian well,theylook as if theynever drankwater. And, iftheyhappen to pass my poultry-yard,theyinstantlylose all appreciationof themerits of a fresh egg .'

"

*

Mr. Kendrew laughed. ' ' I have been throughit all in my time,"he said. "The peoplewhowant to take a house are the born enemies of the

peoplewho want to let a house. Odd " isn't it,Vanborough ?"

Mr. Vanborough'ssullen humor resisted hisMend as obstinatelyas it had resisted his wife.

' ' I dare say," he answered. ' ' I wasn't listen-ing."

This time the tone was almost brutal. Mrs.

Vanborough looked at her husband with uncon-cealed

surpriseand distress.' ' John !" she said. " What can be the matter

with you ? Are you in pain?""A man may be anxious and worried,I sup-pose,

without being actuallyin pain.""I am sorry to hear you are worried. Is it

business ?".

" Yes" business."

"Consult Mr. Kendrew."

"I am waitingto consult him."Mrs. Vanborough rose immediately. ' ' Ring,

dear,"she said,"when you want coffee." Asshe passedher husband she stoppedand laid herhand tenderlyon his forehead. " I wish I couldsmooth out tfiatfrown !" she whispered. Mr.Vanborough impatientlyshook his head. Mrs.Vanborough sighed as she turned to the door.Her husband called to her before she could leave

the room." Mind we are not interrupted!"

"I will do my best,John." She looked atMr. Kendrew, holding the door open for her;and resumed, with an effort,her former light-ness

of tone." But don't forgetour ' born ene-mies!'

Somebody may come, even at this hourof the evening,who wants to see the house."

The two gentlemen were left alone over their

wine. There was a strong personalcontrast be-

MAN AND WIFE. 11

tween them. Mr. Vanborongh was talland dark" a dashing,handsome man ; with an energy inhis face which all the.world saw ; with an inbred

falseness under it which only a specialobservercould detect. Mr. Kendrew was short and light" slow and awkward in manner, except when

something happenedto rouse him. Looking inhis face,the world saw an uglyand undemonstra-tive

littleman. The specialobserver,penetratingunder the surface,found a fine nature beneath,restingon a steadyfoundation of honor and truth.

Mr. Vanborough openedthe conversation."If you ever marry,"he said,"don't be such

a fool,Kendrew, as I have been. Don't take awife from the stage.

"

"If I could get such a wife as yours,"repliedthe other,' ' I would take her from the stage to-morrow.

A beautiful woman, a clever woman,a woman of unblemished character,and a wo-man

who trulyloves you. Man alive ! what do

you want more ?"' ' I want a great deal more. I want a woman

highlyconnected and highlybred " a woman whocan receive the best societyin England,and openher husband's way to a positionin the world."

"A positionin the world!" cried Mr. Ken-drew." Here is a man whose father has left

him half a million of money " with the one con-dition

annexed to it of taking his father's placeat the head of one of the greatest mercantile

houses in England. And he talks about a

position,as if he was a juniorclerk in hisown office! What on earth does your ambi-tion

see, beyond what your ambition has al-ready

got?"Mr. Vanborongh finished his glassof wine,

and looked his friend ^teadilyin the face.

"My ambition,"he said," sees a Parliament-ary

career, with a Peerage at the end of it" andwith no obstacle in the way but my estimable

wife."

Mr. Kendrew lifted his hand warningly."Don't talk in that way," he said. "Ifyou'rejoking" it'sa jokeI don't see. If you'rein earnest " you force a suspicionon me which Iwould rather not feel. Let us change the sub-

What doject.

" No ! Let us have itout at once,

you suspect ?"

''I suspect you are gettingtired of your wife.""She is forty-two,and I am thirty-five;and

I have been married to her for thirteen years.You know all that " and you onlysuspectHamtired of her. Bless your innocence ! Have you

any thingmore to say ?""If you force me to it,I take the freedom of

^an old friend,and I say you are not treatingher

fairly.It'snearlytw* years since you broke upyour establishment abroad,and came to Englandon your father's death. With the exceptionofmyself,and one or two other friends of formerdays,you have presentedyour wife to nobody.Your new positionhas smoothed the way for youinto the best society.You never take your wifewith you. You go out as if you were a singleman. I have reason to know that you are actu-ally

believed to be a singleman, among thesenew acquaintancesof yours, in more than onequarter. Forgive me for speakingmy mindbluntly" I say what I think. It's unworthyof you to keep your wife buried here, as if

you were ashamed of her."

"I am ashamed of her."

"Vanborough!"" Wait a little! you are not to have it allyour

own way, my good fellow. What are the facts?Thirteen years ago I fellin love with a handsome

publicsinger,and married her. My father wasangry with me ; and I had to go and live with

her abroad. It didn't matter, abroad. Myfather forgave me on his death-bed,and I hadto bring her home again. It does matter, athome. I find myself,with a great career open-ing

before me, tied to a woman whose relations

are (asyou well know) the lowest of the low. Awoman without the slightestdistinction of man-ner,

or the slightestaspirationbeyondher nurs-eryand her kitchen,her pianoand her books'.

Is that a wife who can help me to make myplacein society?" who can smooth my way,throughsocial obstacles and politicalobstacles,to the House of Lords ? By Jupiter! if everthere was a woman to be 'buried' (as you call

it),that woman is my wife. And, what's more,if you want the-truth,it'sbecause I can't buryher here that I'm going to leave this house. Shehas got a cursed knack of making acquaintanceswherever she goes. She'll have a circle of friends

about her if I leave her in this neighborhoodmuch longer. Friends who remember her asthe famous opera-singer.Friends who will seeher swindling scoundrel of a father (when myback is turned)coming drunk to the door to bor-row

money of her ! I tellyou, my marriagehaswrecked my prospects. It'sno use talkingto meof my wife's virtues. She is a millstone round

my neck,with all her virtues. If I had not beena bom idiot I should have waited,and married

a woman who would have been of some use to

me ; a woman with high connections ""

Mr. Kendrew touched his host's arm, and sud-denly

interruptedhim."To come to the point,"he said " " a woman

like Lady Jane Parnell. "

Mr. Vanborough started. His eyes fell,forthe firsttime,before the eyes of his friend.

" What do you know about Lady Jane?" heasked.

"Nothing. I don't move in Lady Jane'sworld " but I do go sometimes to the opera. I

saw you with her last night in her box ; and Iheard what was said in the stallsnear me. You

were openlyspokenof as the favored man whowas singled out from the rest by Lady Jane.Imagine what would happen if your wtte heardthat ! You are wrong, Vanborough " you are in

every way wrong. You alarm, you distress,youdisappointme. I never sought this explanation" but now it has come, I won't shrink from it.

Reconsider your conduct ; reconsider what youhave said to me " or you count me no longer

among your friends. No! I want no further

talk about it now. We are both gettinghot"-we

may end in sayingwhat had better have beenleftunsaid. Once more, let us change the sub-ject.

You wrote me word that you wanted me

here to-day, because you needed my adviceon a matter of some importance. What is

it?"

Silence followed that question.Mr. Vanbor-ough's face betrayedsigns of embarrassment.

He poured himself out another glass of wine,and drank it at a draught before he replied.

" It's not so easy to tell you what I want,"

12 MAN AND WIFE.

he said,"after the tone you have taken with me

about my wife."

Mr. Kendrew looked surprised."Is Mrs. Vanborough concerned in the mat-ter?"

he asked.

"Yes."

"Does she know about it?"

"No."" Have you keptthe thinga secret out of re-gard

for her?"

"Yes."

"Have I any rightto advise on it?""You have the rightof an old friend."

"Then, why not tellme franklywhat it is?"There was another moment of embarrassment

on Mr. Vanborough 'spart." It will come better,"he answered," from

third person, whom I expect here every minute.

He is in possessionof all the facts" and he isbetter able to state them than I am.

"

" Who is the person?""My friend,Delamayn.""Your lawyer?"" Yes " the juniorpartner in the firm of Dela-mayn,

Hawke, and Delamayn. Do you knowhim?"

" I am acquaintedwith him. His wife's fam-ilywere friends of mine before he married. I

don't like him."

"You're rather hard to pleaseto-day! Dela-maynis a risingman, if ever there was one yet.

A man with a career before him,and with cour-ageenough to pursue it. He is going to leave

the Firm, and try his luck at the Bar. Everybody says he will do great things.What's yourobjectionto him ?" "

"I have no objectionwhatever. We meetwith peopleoccasionallywhom we dislike with-out

knowing why. Without knowing why, Idislike Mr. Delamayn."

"Whatever you -do,you must put up with himthisevening. He will be here directly."

He was there at that moment. The servant

opened the door,and announced " " Mr. Dela-mayn."

III.

Externallyspeaking,the risingsolicitor,whowas going to try his luck at the Bar,looked likea man who was going to succeed. His hard,hairless face,his watchful gray eyes, his thin,resolute lips,said plainly,in so many words,"I mean to get on in the world; and, if youare in my way, I mean to get on at your ex-pense."

Mr. Delamayn was habituallypolitetoevery body" but he had never been known to

say one unnecessary wdrd to his dearest friend.

A man of rare ability; a man of unblemishedhonor (asthe code of the world goes); but nota man to be taken familiarlyby the hand. Youwould never have borrowed money of him " but

you would have trusted him with untold gold.Involved in privateand personaltroubles,youwould have hesitated at asking him to helpyou.Involved in publicand producibletroubles,youwould have said,Here ismy man. Sure to pushhis way " nobody could look at him and doubtit" sure t" pushhis way.

" Kendrew is an old friend of mine," said Mr.

Vanborough, addressinghimself to the lawyer." Whatever you have to say to me you may saybefore him. Will you have some wine ?"

" No " thank you."

" Have you brought any news ?""Yes."' ' Have 3jou got the written opinionsof the two

barristers?"

"No."^

"Why not?"*"Because nothingof the sort is necessary.

If the facts of the case are correctlystated thereis not the slightestdoubt about the law. "

With that replyMr. Delamayn took a writ-tenpaper from his pocket,and spreadit out on

the table before him." What is that?" asked Mr. Vanborough." The case relatingto your marriage."Mr. Kendrew started,and showed the first

tokens of interest in the proceedingswhich hada (.escapedhim yet. Mr. Delamayn looked at him

for a moment, and went on.4 4 The case,

"

he resumed,' ' as originallystatedby you, and taken down in writingby our head-clerk."

Mr. Vanborough'stemper began to show it-selfagain.

-"What have we got to do with that now?"he asked. "You have made your inquiriestoprove the correctness of my statement " haven't

you ?"

"Yes."44 And you have found out that I am right?"44 1 have found out that you are right" if the

case is right. I wish to be sure that no mistakehas occurred between you and the clerk. This

is a very importantmatter. I am going to take"the responsibilityof giving an opinion which

may be followed by serious consequences; andI mean to assure myselfthat the opinionisgivenon a sound basis,first." have some questionsto ask you. Don't be impatient,if you please.They won't take long."

He referred to the manuscript,and put thefirstquestion.

"You were married at Inchmallock,in Ire-land^,Mr. Vanborough,-thirteenyears since ?"

"Yes."" Your wife " then Miss Anne Silvester" was

a Eoman Catholic ?"

"Yes."41 Her father and mother were Koman Catho-lics

?"44 They were."

'

*

"Your father and mother were Protestants?

and you were baptizedand brought up in theChui"h of England ?"

44 All right!"44 Miss Anne Silvester felt,and expressed,a

strong repugnance to marryingyou, because youand she belonged to different religiouscommu-nities

?"

"She did."44 You got over her objectionby consenting

to become a Roman Catholic,like herself?"44 It was the shortest way with her" and it

didn't matter to me."44 You were formallyreceived into the Roman

Catholic Church ?".

44 1 went through the whole ceremony."44 Abroad or at home?"44 Abroad."4 'How long was it before the date of your

marriage?"" Six weeks before I was married."

Referringperpetuallyto the paper in his hand,

MAN AND WIFE. 13

Mr. Delamayn was especiallycareful in compar-ingthat last answer with the answer given to

the head-clerk.

"Quite right,"he said,and went on with his

questions." The priestwho married you was one Am-brose

Redman " a young man recentlyappointedto his clericalduties ?"

"Yes."" Did he ask if you were both Roman Catho-lics

?"

"Yes."

"Did he ask any thingmore?""No."" Are you sure he never inquiredwhether you

had both been Catholics for more than one yearbeforeyou came to him to be married ?"

"I am certain of it."" He must have forgottenthat part of his

duty" or, beingonlya beginner,he may well havebeen ignoran of it altogether. Did neither younor the ladythink of informinghim on the point?"

"Neither I nor the ladyknew there was anynecessityfor informinghim."

Mr. Delamayn folded up the manuscript,and

put it back in his pocket."Right,"he said,"in every particular."Mr. Vanborough'sswarthycomplexionslowly

turned pale. He cast one furtive glanceat Mr.Kendrew, and turned away again."Well," he said to the lawyer," now for your

opinion! What is the law ?"" The law,"answered Mr. Delamayn, " is be-yond

all doubt or dispute.Your marriage withMiss Anne Silvesteris no marriage at all."

Mr. Kendrew started to his feet." What do you mean ?" he asked,sternly.The risingsolicitorlifted his eyebrowsin po-litesurprise. If Mr. Kendrew wanted informa-tion,

why should Mr. Kendrew ask for it in that

way? "Do you wish me to go into the law ofthe case ?" he inquired.

"I do."Mr. Delamayn stated the law,as that law still

stands " to the disgraceof the EnglishLegisla-tureand the English Nation.

"By the Irish Statute of George the Second,"he said,"every marriage celebrated by a Pop-ish

priestbetween two Protestants,or betweena Papistand any person who has been a Prot-estant

within twelve months before the marriage,is declared null and void. And by two otherActs of the same reignsuch a celebration of mar-riage

is made a felonyon the part of the priest.The clergyin Ireland of other religiousdenom-inations

have been relieved from this law. But

it stillremains in force so far as the Roman

Catholic priesthoodis concerned."" Is such a state of thingspossiblein the age

we live in !" exclaimed Mr. Kendrew.

Mr. Delamayn smiled. He had outgrown thecustomary illusions as to the age we live in.

" There are other instances in which the Irish

marriage-law presents some curious anomaliesof its own," he went on. "It is felony,as Ihave justtold you, for a Roman Catholic priestto celebrate a marriage which may be lawfullycelebrated by a parochialclergyman,a Presby-terian

minister,and a Non -conformist minister.It is also felony(byanother law) on the part ofa parochialclergymanto celebrate a marriagethat may be lawfullycelebrated by a Roman

ICatholic priest.And it is again felony(by yet" another law) for a Presbyterianminister and aNon-conformist minister to celebrate a marriagewhich may be lawfullycelebrated by a clergy-man

of the Established Church. An odd state

of things. Foreignersmight possiblythink it ascandalous state of things. In this country wedon't appear to mind it. Returningto the pres-ent

case, the results stand thus; Mr. Vanbor-

ough is a singleman ; Mrs. Vanborough is asinglewoman ; their child isillegitimate,and thepriest,Ambrose Redman, is liable to be tried,and punished,as a felon,for marryingthem. "

"An infamous law!" said Mr. Kendrew.

"It is the law,"returned Mr. Delamayn, asa sufficientanswer to him.

Thus far not a word had escapedthe masterof the house. He sat with his lipsfast closedand his eyes riveted on the table,thinking.

Mr. Kendrew turned to him, and broke thesilence.

"Am I to understand,"he asked,"that theadvice you wanted from me related to this?"

"Yes."

"You mean to tell me that,foreseeingthe

present interview and the result to which itmightlead,you felt any doubt as to the course youwere bound to take ? Am I reallyto understandthat you hesitate to set this dreadful mistake

right,and to make the woman who is your wifein the sightof Heaven your wife in the sightofthe law ?"

"If you choose to put it in that light,"saidMr. 'Vanborough;

" if you won't consider "'

" I want a plainanswer to my question"'

yes,or no.'"

" Let me speak,will you ! A man has a rightto explainhimself,I suppose ?"

Mr. Kendrew stoppedhim by a gesture of dis-gust.

"I won't trouble you to explainyourself,"hesaid. "I preferto leave the house. You havegiven me a lesson,Sir,which I shall not forget.I find that one man may have known another

from the days when theywere both boys,and

may have seen nothingbut the false surface ofhim in all that time. I am ashamed of havingever been your friend. You are a stranger to

me from this moment."

With those words he leftthe room.

"That is a curiouslyhot-headed man," re-markedMr. Delamayn. " If you will allow me,

I think I'llchange,my mind. I'llhave a glassof wine."

Mr. Vanborough rose to his feet without re-plying,and took a turn in the room impatiently.

Scoundrel as he was " in intention,if not yet inact " the loss of the oldest friend he had in the

world staggeredhim for the moment." Tliis is an awkward business,Delamayn,"

he said. " What would you advise me to do?"

Mr. Ij^elamaynshook his head,and sippedhisclaret.

'" I decline to advise you,"he answered. " Itake no responsibility,beyond the responsibilityof statingthe law as it stands,in your case."

Mr. Vanborough sat down again at the table,to consider the alternative of assertingor not as-serting

his freedom from the marriage tie. Hehad not had much time thus far fofturningthe

matter over in his mind. But for his residence

on the Continent the questionof the flaw in his

14 MAN AND WIFE.

marriage might no doubt have been raised longsince. As things were, the questionhad onlytaken its rise in a chance conversation with Mr.

Delamayn in the summer of that year.For some minutes the lawyersat silent,sipping

his wine,and the husband sat silent,thinkinghisown thoughts. The firstchange that came overthe scene was producedby the appearance of aservant in the dining-room.

Mr. Van'boroughlooked up at the man with asudden outbreak of anger.

" What do you want here ?"

The man was a well-bred Englishservant. Inother words,a human machine, doing its dutyimpenetrablywhen it was once wound up. Hehad his words to speak,and he spokethem.

" There is a ladyat the door,Sir,who wishesto see the house."

"The house is not to be seen at this time of

the evening."The machine had a message to deliver,and

deliveredit." The ladydesired me.to present her apologies,

Sir. I was to tellyou she was much pressedfortime. This was the last house on the house

agent'slist,and her coachman is Stupidaboutfindinghis way in strange places.

"

"Hold your tongue, and tell the ladyto goto the devil !"

Mr. Delamayn interfered " partlyin the inter-estsof his client,partlyin the interests of pro-priety.

" You attach some importance,I think,to let-tingthis house as soon as possible?" he said.

"Of course I do!"

"Is it wise " on account of a momentary an-noyance" to lose an opportunityof layingyour

hand on a tenant?"

"Wise or not, it'san infernal nuisance to be

disturbed by a stranger.""Just as you please.I don't wish to inter-fere.

I onlywish to say " in case you are think-ingof my convenience as your guest" that it will

be no nuisance to me."

The servant impenetrablywaited. Mr. Van-boroughimpatientlygave way.

"Very well. Let her in. Mind, if she comeshere,she'sonlyto look into the room, and go outagain. If she .wants to ask questions,she mustgo to the agent."

Mr. Delamayn interfered once more, in the in-terests,this time,of the -ladyof the house.

"Might it not be desirable,"he suggested," to consult Mrs. Vanborough before you quitedecide ?"

" Where's your mistress ?"

"In the garden, or the paddock,Sir" I amnot sure which."

' ' We can't send allover the grounds in searchof her. " Tell the house-maid,and show the ladyin."

The servant withdrew. Mr. Delamayn helpedhimself to a second glassof wine.

" Excellent claret,"he said. " Do you get itdirectfrom Bordeaux ?"

There was no answer. Mi-. Vanborough hadreturned to the contemplationof the alternativebetween freeinghimself or not freeinghimselffrom the mai'riagetie. One of his elbows wason the tables he bitfiercelyat his finger-nails.Hemuttered between his teeth," What am I todo ?"

A sound of rustlingsilkmade itselfgentlyaud-iblein the passage outside. The door opened,

and the ladywho had come to see the house ap-pearedin the dining-room.

IV.

She was talland elegant; beautifullydressed,in the happiestcombination of simplicityandsplendor.A lightsummer veil hung over herface. She liftedit,and made her apologiesfordisturbingthe gentlemen over their wine, withthe unaffected ease and grace of a highly-bredwoman.

"Fray accept my excuses for this intrusion.I am ashamed to disturb you. One look at the

room will be quiteenough."Thus far she had addressed Mr. Delamayn,

who happened to be nearest to her. Lookinground the room her eye fellon Mr. Vanborough.She started,with a loud exclamation of aston-ishment.

"YbM/" she said. "Good Heav-ens

! who would have thoughtof meeting youhere ?"

Mr. Vanborough,on his side,stood petrified."Ladv Jane!" he exclaimed. "Is it possi-ble?"

He barelylooked at her while she spoke. Hiseyes wandered guiltilytoward the window whichled into the garden. The situation was a terri-ble

one " equallyterrible if his wife discoveredLady Jane, or ifLady Jane discovered his wife.For the moment nobody was visible on the lawn.There was time; if the chance only offered "there was time for him to get the visitor out ofthe house. The visitor,innocent of all knowl-edge

of the truth,gaylyoffered him her hand."I believe in mesmerism for the firsttime,"

she said. "This is an instance of magneticsympathy,Mr. Vanborough. An invalid friendof mine wants a furnished house at Hampstead.I undertake to find one for her,and the day /select to make the discoveryis the day you selectfor diningwith a friend. A last house at Hamp-stead

is lefton my list" and in that house I meet

you. Astonishing!"She turned to Mr. Dela-mayn."I presume I am addressingthe owner

of the house ?" Before a word could be said byeither of the gentlemen she noticed the garden."What prettygrounds ! Do I see a ladyin thegarden ? I hope I have not driven her away.

"

She looked round, and appealedto Mr. Vanbor-ough." Your friend's wife ?" she asked,and,

on this occasion,waited for a reply.In Mr. Vanborough'ssituation what replywas

possible?Mrs. Vanborough was not only visible" but

audible " in the garden; givingher orders to oneof the out-of-door servants with the tone and

manner which proclaimedthe mistress of the '

house. Supposehe said," She is not my friend'swife ?" Female curiositywould inevitablyput thenext question,"Who is she?" Suppose he in-vented

an explanation? The explanationwouldtake time,and time would give his wife an op-portunity

of discoveringLady Jane. Seeing allthese considerations in one breathless moment,Mr. Vanborough took the shortest and the bold-est

way out of the difficulty.He answered silent-ly

by an affirmative inclination of the head,which

dextrouslyturned Mrs. Vanborough into Mrs.Delamayn, without allowingMr. Delamayn theopportunityof hearingit.

MAN AND WIFE. 15

But the lawyer'seye was habituallywatchful,and the lawyer saw him.

Mastering in a moment his firstnatural aston-ishmentat the libertytaken with him, Mr. Dela-

mayn drew the inevitable conclusion that there

was something wrong, and that there was an at-tempt

(not to be permittedfor a moment) to mixhim up in it. He advanced, resolute to contra-dict

his client,to his client'sown face.The voluble Lady Jane interruptedhim before

he could open his lips."Might I ask one question? Is the aspect

south ? Of coifrse it is! I ought to see by thesun that the aspect is south. These and the

other two are, I suppose, the onlyrooms on the

ground-floor? And is it quiet? Of course it's

quiet! A charming house. Far more likelytosuit my friend than any I have seen yet. Will

you give me the refusal of it tillto-morrow?''There she stoppedfor breath,and gave Mr. De-lamayn his firstopportunityof speakingto her.

"I beg your ladyship'spardon,"he began." I reallycan't"

"

Mr. Vanborough " passingclose behind him,and whisperingas he passed" stoppedthe law-yer

before he could say a word more.

"For God's sake,don't contradict me! Mywife is coming this way !"

At the same moment (stillsupposingthat Sir.

Delamayn was the master of the house)LadyJane returned to the charge.

"You appear to feelsome hesitation,"she said.' ' Do you want a reference ?" Sl\psmiled satiric-

'ally,and summoned her friend to her aid. "Mr.Vanborough!"

Mr. Vanborough, stealingstep by step nearerto the window " intent,come what might of it,on keepinghis wife out of the room " neitherheeded nor heard her. Lady Jane followedhim, and tapped him brisklyon the shoulderwith her parasol.

At that moment Mrs. Vanborough appearedon the garden side of the window.

"Am I in the way?" she asked,addressingher husband,after one steadylook at Lady Jane." This ladyappears to be an old friend of yours."There was a tone of sarcasm in that allusion to

the parasol,which might developinto a tone ofjealousyat a moment's notice.Lady Jane was not in the least*disconcerted.

She had her double privilegeof familiaritywiththe men whom she liked " her privilegeas a wo-man

of high rank, and her privilegeas a youngwidow. She bowed to Mrs. Vanborough,withall the highly-finishedpolitenessof the order towhich she belonged.

" The ladyof the house,I presume ?" she said,with a gracioussmile.

Mrs. Vanborough returned the bow coldly"entered the room first" and then answered,"Yes."

Lady Jane turned to Mr. Vanborough."Present me!" she said,submittingresigned-lyto the formalities of the middle classes.

Mr. Vanborough obeyed,without lookingat hiswife,and without mentioning his wife's name.

"Lady Jane Parnell,"he said,passingoverthe introduction as rapidlyas possible."Letme see you to your carnage.''he added, offeringhis arm. " I will take care that you have the re-fusal

of the house. You may trust it all to me."

No ! Lady Jane was accustomed to leave a

favorable impressionbehind her wherever shewent. It was a habit with her to be charming(in widelydifferent ways) to both sexes. Thesocial experienceof the upper classes is,in En-gland,

an experienceof universal welcome. LadyJane declined to leave until she had thawed the

icyreceptionof the ladyof the house."I must repeat my apologies,"she said to

Mrs. Vanborough, "for coming at this inconven-ienttime. My intrusion appears to have sadly

disturbed the two gentlemen. Mr. Vanboroughlooks as if he wished me a hundred miles away.And as for your husband "

" She stoppedandglanced toward Mr. Delamayn. "Pardon mefor speakingin that familiar way. I have notthe pleasureof knowing your husband's name."

In speechlessamazement Mrs. Vanborough'seyes followed the directionof Lady Jane's eyes" and rested on the lawyer,personallya total

stranger to her.

Mr. Delamayn, resolutelywaitinghis oppor-tunityto speak,seized it once more " and held

it this time.

"I beg your pardon,"he said. "There issome misapprehensionhere,for which I am inno way responsible.I am not that lady'shus-band."

It was Lady Jane's turn to be astonished. Shelooked at the lawyer. Useless ! Mr. Delamaynhad set himself right" Mr. Delamayn declinedto interfere further. He silentlytook a chair atthe other end of the room. Lady Jane addressedMr. Vanborough.

"Whatever the mistake may.be," she said,"you are responsiblefor it. You certainlytoldme this ladywas your friend'swife.

"

" What !!!" cried Mrs. Vanborough" loudly,sternly,incredulously.

The inbred prideof the great ladybegan to

appear behind the thin outer veil of politenessthat covered it.

"I will speaklouder ifyou wish it,"she said." Mr. Vanborough told me you were that gentle-man's

wife."

Mr. Vanborough whisperedfiercelyto his wifethrough his clenched teeth.

" The whole thingis a mistake. Go into the

garden again!"

Mrs. Vanborough'sindignatibnwas suspendedfor the.moment in dread,as she saw the passionand the terror strugglingin her husband's face.

' ' How you look at me !" she said. ' ' How you

speakto me!"He onlyrepeated," Go into the garden!"

Lady Jane began to perceive,what the lawyerhad discovered some minutes previously" thatthere was something wrong in the villaat Hamp-stead. The ladyof the house was a ladyin ananomalous positionof some kind. And as thehouse,to all appearance, belonged to Mr. Van-

borough'sfriend,Mr. Vanborongh's friend must

(inspiteof his recent disclaimer)be in some wayresponsiblefor it. Arriving,naturallyenough,at this erroneous conclusion,Lady Jane's eyesrested for an instant on Mr*. Vanhorough with a

finelycontemptuous expressionof inquirywhichwould have roused the spiritof the tamest wo-man

in existence. The impliedinsult stung thewife's sensitive nature to the quick. She turnedonce more to her husband" this time without

flinching."Who is that woman?" she asked.

16 MAN AND WIFE.

Lady Jane was equalto the emergency. Themanner in which she wrapped herself up in herown virtue,without the slightestpretensiononthe one hand, and without the slightest.compro-mise

on the other,was a sightto see. '

" Mr. Vanborough,"she said,"you offered totake me to my carriagejustnow. I beginto un-derstand

that I had better have acceptedthe offerat once. Give me youf arm."

"Stop!" said Mrs. Vanborough, "your lady-ship'slooks are looks of contempt ; your lady-ship'swords can bear but one interpretation.I

am innocentlyinvolved in some vile deceptionwhich I don't understand. But this I do know

" I won't submit to be insulted in my own house.

After what you have justsaid I forbid my hus-bandto giveyou his arm.

"

Her husband.!

.Lady Jane looked at Mr. Vanborough" at Mr.

Vanborough, whom she loved ; whom she had

honestlybelieved to be a singleman ; whom shehad suspected,up to that moment, of nothing'worse than of tryingto screen the frailtiesof hisfriend. She droppedher highly-bredtone ; shelost her highly-bredmanners. The sense of herinjury(ifthis was true),the pang of her jealousy(ifthat woman was his wife),strippedthe humannature in her bare of all disguises,raised the an-gry

color in her cheeks,and struck the angry fireout of her eyes.

"If you can tell the truth,'Sir,"she said,haughtily,"be so good as to tellit now. Have

you been falselypresentingyourselfto the world" falselypresentingyourselfto me " in the char-acter

and with the aspirationsof a singleman ?Is that ladyyour wife?"

"Do you hear her? do you see her?" cried

Mrs. Vanborough, appealingto her husband, inher turn. She suddenlydrew back from him,shudderingfrom head to foot. "He hesitates !"she said to herself,faintly." Good God ! he hes-itates!"

Lady Jane sternlyrepeatedher question."Is that ladyyour wife?"He roused his scoundrel-courage,and said the

fatal word :

"No!"Mrs. Vanborough staggeredback. She caught

at the white curtains of the window to save her-self

from falling,and tore them. She looked ather husband,with the torn curtain clenched fastin her hand. She asked herself,"Am I mad?or is he?"

Lady Jane drew a deepbreath of relief. Hewas not married ! He was onlya profligatesingleman. A profligatesingleman is shocking" butreclaimable. It is possibleto blame him severe-ly,

and to insist on his reformation in the most

uncompromisingterms. It is also possibletoforgivehim, and marry him. Lady Jane tookthe necessary positionunder the circumstanceswith perfecttact. She inflicted reproof'in thepresent without excludinghopein the future.

"I have made a very painfuldiscovery,"shesaid,gravely,'toMr. Vanborough. "It rests with

you to persuademe to forgetit! Good-evening!"

She accompaniedthe last words by a farewelllook which aroused Mrs. Vanborough to frenzy.She sprang forward and preventedLady Janefrom leavingthe room.

" No !" she said*. " You don't go yet !" .Mr. Vanborough came forward to interfere.

His wife eyed him with a terrible look,andturned from him with a terrible contempt."That man. has lied!" she said. "In justiceto myself,I insist on provingit!" She struck abell on a table near her. The servant came in." Fetch my writing-deskout of the next room."She waited " with her back turned on her hus-band,

with her eyes fixed on Lady Jane. De-fenselessand alone she stood on the wreck of her

married life,superiorto the husband's treachery,the lawyer'sindifference,and her rival's con-tempt.

At that dreadful moment her beautyshone out again with a gleam 'ofits old glory.The grand woman, who in the old stagedayshadheld thousands breathless over the mimic woes

of the scene, stood there grander than ever,, inher own woe, and held the three peoplewholooked at her breathless tillshe spoke again.

The servant came in with the desk. She took

out a paper and handed it to Lady Jane." I was a singeron the stage,"she said," when

I was a singlewoman. The slander to whichsuch women are exposeddoubted my marriage.I providedmyselfwith the paper in your hand.It speaksfor itself. Even the highestsociety,madam, respects that !"

Lady Jane examined the paper. It was amarriage-certificate. She turned deadlypale,and beckoned to Mr. Vanborough. "Are youdeceivingme ?" she asked.

Mr. Vanborough looked hack into the farcorner of the room, in which the lawyersat,im-penetrably

waitingfor events. " Oblige me bycoming here for a moment," he said.

Mr. Delaniaynrose and compliedwith the re-quest.Mr. Vanborough addressed himself 'to

Lady Jane." I beg to refer you to my man of business.

"He is not interested in deceivingyou."" Am I requiredsimplyt""speakto the fact?''

asked Mr. Delamayn. " I decline to do more."" You are not wanted to do more."

Listeningintentlyto that interchangeof ques-tionand answer, Mrs. Vanborough advanced a

stepin silence. The highcourage that had sus-tainedher againstoutrage which had openlyde-clareditselfshrank under the sense of something

coming which she had not foreseen. A namelessdread throbbed at her heart and crept among the

roots of her hair.

Lady Jane handed the certificateto the lawyer.%'In two words,Sir,"she said,impatiently,"what is this?"*** In two words,madam," answered Mr. Dela-

tnayn ;"

waste paper."" He is not married ?"" He is not married."

After a moment's hesitation Lady Jane looked,round at Mrs. Vanborough, standingsilentat herside " looked,and started back in terror. ' ' Take

me away!" she cried,shrinkingfrom the ghastlyface that confronted her with the fixed stare of

agony in the great,glitteringeyes. "Take meaway! That woman willmurder me!"

Mr. Vanborough gave her his arm and led herto the door. There was dead silence in the room

as he did it. Stepby step the wife's eyes fol-lowedthem with thjesame dreadful stare,tillthe

door closed and shut them out. The lawyer,leftalone with the disowned and deserted woman,

put the useless certificate silentlyon the table.She looked from him to the paper, and dropped,

MAN AND WIFE. 17

"IS THAT LADT TOUR WIFE?"

without a cry to warn him, without an efforttosave herself,senseless at his feet.

fie liftedher from the floor and placedher onthe sofa,and waited to see if Mr. Vanboroughwould come hack. Looking at the beautiful face" stillbeautiful,even in the swoon" he owned it

was hard on her. Yes ! in his own impenetrable

way, the risinglawyerowned it was hard on her.But the law justifiedit. There was no doubt

in this case. The law justifiedit.The tramplingof horses and the grating of

wheels sounded outside. Lady Jane's carriage

18 MAN AND WIFE.

was drivingaway. Would the husband comeback ? (See what a thing habit is! Even Mr.

Delamayn stillmechanicallythought of him asthe husband " in the face of the law ! in the face

of the facts!)No. The minutes passed. And no sign of

the husband coming back.It was not wise to make a scandal in the house.

It was not desirable (on his own sole responsibil-ity)to let the servants see what had happened.

Still,there she laysenseless. The cool eveningair came in through the open window and liftedthe lightribbons in her lace cap, lifted the littlelock of hair that had broken loose and droopedover her neck. Still,there she lay" the wife whohad loved him, the mother of his child " thereshe lay.

He stretched out his hand to ringthe bell andsummon help.

At the same moment the quietof the summerevening was once more disturbed. He held hishand suspendedover the bell. The noise outsidecame nearer. It was again the tramplingofhorses and the gratingof wheels. Advancing"

rapidlyadvancing" stoppingat the house.Was Lady Jane commg back ?Was the husband coming back ?There was a loud ring at the bell" a quick

openingof the house-door " a rustlingof a wo-man'sdress in the passage. The door of the

room opened,and the woman appeared" alone.Not Lady Jane. A stranger" older,years older,than Lady Jane. A plainwoman, perhaps,atother times. A woman almost beautiful,now,with the eager happinessthat beamed in herface.

She saw the figureon the sofa. She ran to itwith a cry " a. cry of recognitionand a cry ofteiTor in one. She dropped on her knees " andlaid that helplesshead on her bosom, and kissed,with a sister'skisses,that cold,white cheek.

" Oh, my darling!" she said. " Is it thus wemeet again?"

Yes ! Afterallthe years that had passedsincethe partingin the cabin of the ship,it was thusthe two school-friendsmet again.

tjjeSecond.

THE MARCH OF TIME.

V..

ADVANCING from time past to time present,the Prologue leaves the date last attained (thesummer of eighteenhundred and fifty-five),andtravels on through an interval of twelve years "tells who lived,who died,who prospered,andwho failed among the persons concerned in the

tragedyat the Hampstead villa" and, this done,leaves the reader at the opening of THE STORY,in the springof eighteenhundred and sixty-eight.

"

The record beginswith a marriage" the mar-riageof Mr. Van borough and Lady Jane Parnell.

In three months from the memorable daywhenhis solicitorhad informed him that he was a free

man. Mr. Vanborough possessedthe wife he de-sired,to grace the head of.his table and to push

his fortunes in the world " the Legislatureof

Great Britain being the humble servant of his

treachery,and the respectableaccompliceof hiscrime.

He entered Parliament. He gave (thanks tohis wife)six of the grandestdinners,and two ofthe most crowded balls of the season. He made

a successful firstspeechin the House of Com-mons.He endowed a church in a poor neigh-borhood.

He wrote an article which attracted

attention in a quarterlyreview. He discovered,denounced, and remedied a cryingabuse in theadministration of a publiccharity.He received(thanksonce more to his wife)a member of the

Royal familyamong the visitors at his countryhouse in the autumn recess. These were his tri-umphs,

and this his rate of progress on the wayto the peerage, duringthe firstyear of his lifeasthe husband of Lady Jane.

There was but one more favor that Fortune

could confer on her spoiledchild " and Fortunebestowed it. There was a spot on Mr. Vanbor-ough

'spast lifeas long as the woman lived whomhe had disowned and deserted. At the end of

the firstyear Death took her " and the spot was

rubbed out.

She had met the merciless injuryinflicted onher with a rare patience,with an admirable cour-age.

It is due to Mr. VanbOrough to admit thathe broke her heart,with the strictest attentionto propriety.He offered (throughhis lawyer)ahandsome provisionfor her and for her child.It was rejected,without an instant'shesitation.She repudiatedhis money " she repudiatedhisname. By the name which she had borne in hermaiden days" the name which she had made il-lustrious

in her Art " the mother and daughterwere known to all who cared to inquireafterthem when theyhad stink in the world.

There was no false pridein the resolute atti-tudewhich she thus assumed after her husband

had forsaken her. Mrs. Silvester (as she wasnow called)gratefullyacceptedfor herself,andfor Miss Silvester,the assistance of the dear oldfriend who ha"J found her againin her affliction,and who remained faithful to her to the end.

They lived with Lady Lundie until the motherwas strong'enough to carry out the planof lifewhich she had arranged for the future,and toearn her bread as a teacher of singing. To all

appearance she rallied,and became herself again,in a few months' time. She was making her

way ; she was winning sympathy,confidence,and respectevery wlfere " when she sank sudden-ly

at the openingof her new life. Nobody couldaccount for it. The doctors themselves were di-vided

in opinion. Scientificallyspeaking,therewas no reason why she should die. It was amere figureof speech" in no degree satisfactoryto any reasonable mind " to say, as Lady Lundiesaid,that she had got her death-blow on the daywhen her husband deserted her. The one thingcertain was the fact" account for itas you might.In spiteof science (whichmeant little),in spiteof her own courage (which meant much), thewoman droppedat her post and died.

In the latter part of her illness her mind gave

way. The friend of her old school-days,sittingat the bedside,heard her talkingas ifshe thoughtlierselfback again in the cabin of the ship. Theaoor soul found the tone, almost the look,thatiiadbeen lost for so many years " the tone Of the

past time when the two girlshad gone their dif-

MAN AND WIFE. 19

WILL SHE END LIKE ME?"

ferentways in the world. She said,"" we will looked at Lady Lundie, d woke, as itseeme"l,meet,darling,with all the old love between ns,justas she had said almost a lifetime sinceBefore the end her mind rallied. She surprisedthedoctor and the nurse hy begging them gentlytoleave the room. When they had gone she

to consciousness from a dream.

"Blanche,"she said,"you will take care omv child ?"

"" She shallbe my child,Anne, when you are

gone.

20 MAN AND WIFE.

The dyingwoman paused,and thought for alittle. A sudden tremblingseized her.

" Keep it a secret!" she said. "I am afraidfor my child."

' ' Afraid ? After what I have promisedyou ?"She solemnlyrepeatedthe words,' ' I am afraid

for my child."

'Why?"' My Anne is my second self" isn'tshe ?"'Yes."' She is as fond of your child as I was of you ?"

'Yes."' She is not called by her father's name " she

is called by mine. She is Anne Silvester as Iwas. Blanche ! Will she end like Me f"

The questionwas put with the laboringbreath,with the heavy accents which tell that death isnear. It chilled the livingwoman who heard it

to the marrow of her bones." Don't think that !" she cried,horror-struck.

"For God's sake,don't think that!"The wildness began to appear again in Anne

Silvester'seyes. She made feebly- impatientsignswith her hands. Lady Lundie bent overher,and heard her whisper,"Lift me up."

She layin her friend's arms ; she looked up inher friend's face ; she went back wildlyto herfear for her child.

"Don't bring her up like Me! She must be

a governess " she must get her bread. Don't let

her act ! don'-t let her sing! don't let her go onthe stage !" 'She stopped" her voice suddenlyrecovered itssweetness of tone " she smiled faint-ly

" she said the old girlishwords once more, inthe old girlishway,

" Vow it,Blanche!" LadyLundie kissed her,and answered,as she had an-swered

when^heypartedin the ship," I vow it,Anne !"

The head sank,never to be lifted more. Thelast look of lifenickered in the filmyeyes andwent out. For a moment afterward her lipsmoved. Lady Lundie put her ear close to them,and heard the dreadful questionreiterated,inthe same dreadful words : " She is Anne Silves-v

ter " as I was. Will she end like Me f"

VL

Five years passed" and the lives of the threemen who had sat at the dinner-table in the

Hampstead villabegan, in their altered aspects,to reveal the progress of time and change.

Mr. Kendrew; Mr. Delamayn; Mr. Vanbor-ough. Let the order in which -theyare h^renamed "be the order in which their lives are re-viewed,

as seen once more after a lapseof five

years.How the husband'sfriend marked his sense of

the husband's treacheryhas been told already.How liefeltthe death of the deserted wife is still

leftto tell. Report,which sees the inmost heartsof men, and delightsin turningthem outward tothe publicview, had alwaysdeclared that Mr.Kendrew's lifehad itssecret,and that the secret

was a hopelesspassionfor the beautiful womanwho had married his friend. Not a hint ever

dropped to any livingsoul,not a word everspoken to the woman herself,could be producedin proof of the assertion while the woman lived.When she died Report started up again moreconfidentlythan ever, and appealedto the man'sown conduct as proofagainstthe man himself.

He attended the funeral " though he was no

relation. He took a few blades of grass from

the turf with which they covered her grave "when he thought that nobody was lookingathim. He disappearedfrom his club. He trav-eled.

He came back. He admitted thatliewas

weary of England. He appliedfor,and obtained,an appointment in one of the colonies. To whatconclusion did allthispoint? Was itnot plainthathis usual course of lifehad lost its attraction for

him, when the objectof his infatuation had ceasedto exist ? ft might have been so " guesses less

likelyhave been made at the truth,and have hitthe mark. It is,at any rate,certain that he leftEngland, never to return again. Another manlost,Report said. Add to that,a man in tenthousand " and,for once, Reportmight claim tobe right.

Mr. Delamayn comes next.The risingsolicitor was struck off the roll,at

his own request" and entered himself as a stu-dentat one of the Inns of Court. For three

years nothing was known of him but that he wasreading hard and keepinghis terms. He wascalled to the Bar. His late partners in the firmknew theycould trust him, and put business intohis hands. In two years he made himself a po-sition

in Court. At the end of the two years he

made himself a positionout of Court. He ap-pearedas "Junior" in "a famous case,"in

which the honor of a great family,and the titleto a great estate were concerned. His

" Senior"

fellillon the eve of the trial. He conducted the

case for the defendant and won it. The defend-ant

said,"What can I do for you?" Mr. De-lamaynanswered, "Put me into Parliament."

Being a landed gentleman,the defendant hadonlyto issue the necessary orders " and behold,Mr. Delamayn was in Parliament !

In the House of Commons the new member

and Mr. Vanborouglf met again.They sat on the same bench, and sided with

the same party. Mr. Delamayn noticed thatMr. Vanborough was lookingold and worn and

gray.' He put a few questionsto a well-informed

person. The well-informed person shook his

head. Mr. Vanborough was rich ; Mr. Van-borough was well-connected (throughhis wife);Mr. Vanborough was a sound man in every senseof the word ; 6w"" nobody liked him. He haddone very well the firstyear, and there it had

ended. He was undeniablyclever,but he pro-duceda disagreeableimpressionin the House.

He gave splendid.entertainments,but he wasn't

popularin society-His party respectedhim,but when theyhad any thingto givetheypassedhim over. He had a temper of his own, if the

truth must be told ; and with nothing againsthim " on the contrary, with every thing in hisfavor " he didn't make friends. A soured man.At home and abroad,a soured man.

VII.

Five years more passed,datingfrom the daywhen the deserted wife was laid in her grave.It was now the year eighteenhundred and sixty-six.

On a certain day in that year two specialitems of news appeared in the papers " the newsof an elevation to the peerage, and the news of

a suicide.

Gettingon well at the Bar,Mr. Delamayn goton better stillin Parliament. He became one

MAN AND WIFE. 21

of the prominentmen in the House. Spokeclearly,sensibly,and modestly,and was nevertoo long. Held the House, where men of high-er

abilities"bored" it. The chiefs of his partysaid openly,"We must do something for Dela-mayn."

The opportunityoffered,and the chiefskept their word. Their Solicitor-General wasadvanced a step,and theyput Delamayn in his

place. There was an outcry on the part of theolder members of the Bar. The Ministryan-swered,

' ' We want a man who is listened to in

the House, and we have got him." The paperssupportedthe new nomination. A great debatecame off,and the new Solicitor-General justifiedthe Ministryand the papers. His enemies said,derisively,' ' He will be Lord Chancellor in a

year or two!" His friends made genialjokesin his domestic circle,which pointedto the sameconclusion. They warned his two sons, Juliusand Geoffrey(thenat college),to be careful what

acquaintancesthey made, as they might findthemselves the sons of a lord at a moment's no-tice.

It reallybegan to look like something ofthe sort. Always rising,Mr. Delamayn rosenext to be Attorney-General.About the sametime " so true it is that "nothing succeeds likesuccess" " a childless relative died and left him

a fortune. In the summer of 'sixty-sixa Chief

Judgeshipfellvacant. The Ministryhad madea previousappointmentwhich had been univers-ally

unpopular..They saw their way to supply-ingthe place oT their Attorney-General,and

theyoffered the judicialappointment to Mr. De-lamayn.He preferredremaining in the House

of Commons, and refused to accept it. The

Ministrydeclined to take No for an answer.They whisperedconfidentially,"Will you take

it with a peerage?" Mr. Delamayn consultedhis wife,and took itwith a peerage. The LondonGazette announced him to the world as Baron

Holchester 'ofHolchester. And the friends ofthe familynibbed their hands and said, " Whatdid we tellyou ? Here are our two young friends,Julius and Geoffrey,the sons of a lord !"

And where was Mr. Vanborough allthis time ?Exactlywhere we lefthim five years since.

He was as rich,or richer,than ever. He wasas well-connected as ever. He was as ambitious

as ever. But there it ended. He stood stillinthe House; he stood stillin society;nobodyliked him ; he made no friends. It was all the

old story over again,with this difference,thatthe soured man was sourer; the gray head,grayer ; and the irritabletemper more unendur-able

than ever. His wife had her rooms in thehouse and he had his,and the confidential serv-ants took care that theynever -met on the stairs.They had no children. They only saw eachother at their grand dinners and balls. Peopleate at their table,and danced on their floor,and

compared notes afterward,an,dsaid how dull itwas. Stepby step the man who had once beenMr. Vanborough's lawyerrose, tillthe peeragereceived him, and he could rise no longer; whileMr. Vanborough, on the lower round of the lad-der,

looked up, and noted it,with no more chance

(richas he was and well-connected as he was) ofclimbingto the House of Lords than your chancoor mine.

The man's career was ended ; and on the daywhen the nomination of the new peer was an.

nounced, the man ended with it.He laid the newspaper aside without making

any remark and went out. His carriage set

"THEY BROKE OPEN THE DOOR, AND SAW HIM LYING ON THE SOFA."