dead leaves, and a steel-grey sky; and the Dolphin Hotel at Southa

distinct and arbitrary signification in her ladyship’s household, neither butler nor steward, but that privileged being, an old and tr

an twenty years of age at the beginning of his service, but he was a man of extraordinary gravity, much in advance of his years; a man of shrewd common-sense and clear, sharp intellect. Not a reading man, or a man in any way superior to his station and belongings, but a man who could think quickly, and understand quickly, and who always seemed to think rightly. Prompt in action, yet steady as a rock, and to all appearance recognising no earthly interest, no human tie, beyond or above the interests of his master. As a nurse Steadman showed himself inva

n, you shall have a better place

guard, and his employment seemed to consist chiefly in poking fires, cutting the leaves of books and newspapers, superintending the footman’s attendance upon her ladyship’s household pets, and c

ed by coach to her ladyship’s favourite retreat in Westmoreland, within a few miles of the Laureate’s home at Ryd

e Lady Maulevrier waited patiently in her sitting-room at the Dolphin, whose three long French windows commanded a full view of the High Street, with all those various distractions afforded by the chief thoroughfare of a provincial town. Her ladyship was provided with a large box of books, from Ebers’ in B

ved for summer occupation, or for perhaps two or three weeks at Easter, when the spring was exceptionally fine. The sudden determination to spend the co

lside is the only place we have in which he is likely to get perfect rest. Anywhere else we

Wordsworth. I suppose

ul, he gives nobody any tr

and very cold in wint

d benignly, as at an

e base of the Fell. Loughrigg rises up like

ind is in the e

not know how we are girdl

end; ‘but for my own part I wou

de believe to ignore them; and she acted her part of unconsciousness with such consummate skill that nobody in her circle could be sure where the acting began an

, prior to that public inquiry which was to come on during the next session. His private fortune would be made answerable for his misdemeanours — his life, said the alarmists, might pay the penalty of his treason. On al

rder that she might give herself to him. She had married him for position and fortune; and now by his follies, by his extravagance, and by that greed of gold which is inevitable in the spendthrift and profligate, he had gone n

face, light auburn whiskers, light blue eyes, full and large, but with no intellectual power in them. Lady Maulevrier was sitting by the fire, in a m

e been too much to say that she kissed him; but she submitted her lips un

closer to the fire. Steadman had taken away his fur-lined cloak. ‘I had real

her ladyship, trying to be cheerful; ‘

n of dead leaves, damp, and dreariness. I should like

scathing look, half-sc

sent circumstances. So long as you are here to answer all charges no one

upted Maulevrier, ‘although the very fact of my return ought to

t searched his soul. ‘Can you meet their charges? Can you live down

interrogation. His lips answered the wife’s spoken question with

afraid,’

name. There was silence for some minutes. Lady Maulevrier sat with lowered eyelids looking at the fire, deep in painful thought. Two perpendicular wrinkles upon her broad white forehead — so calm, so unclouded in society — told of gnawing cares. Then she stole a look at her

e dull, yellow tint of the complexion, the tarnished dimness of the large blue eyes, the discontented droop of the lips, the languor of the attitude,

ank interval, which marked so unnatural an apathy betw

gues and liars — the victim of a most infernal conspiracy.’ He

eartless yet which might be the result of suppressed feeling. ‘If you are to face this scandal firmly and boldly ne

rd Maulevrier, testily; ‘that infernal

ght from here to Fellside. No one can plague you there with that disguised impertinence called sympathy. You can give al

think of goin

upon me — a cottage in Westmoreland with fifty acres of garden and meadow — so ut

? What put it into your head to go there at such a season as th

ed Lady Maulevrier. ‘You will be out of the eye of the world. I should think that c

id the Earl, ‘and i

and in the discussion which followed she bore herse

ealth and spirits, contest the mere details of li

er, he urged; there were steps to be taken which could be taken only under legal advice — counsel to be retained. If this lying in

resolutely. ‘I have seen Messrs. Rigby and Rider, and your own part

ervously, evidently much disconcerted by her ladyship’s firmn

I am not without influence;

rges are true or false. If they are false your own manhood, your own rectitude, can face them

they are as false as hell,’ retorted the Ea

re were no such slanders in the air. I have steadily ignored every report, ev

arl, coolly. ‘If I had not known you were a w

his own comfort. Where were his rooms? at what hour were they to dine? And hereupon