October 9th. - It was on the night of the 4th, a little after tea,that Annabella had been singing and playing, with Arthur as usualat her side: she had ended her song, but still she sat at theinstrument; and he stood leaning on the back of her chair,conversing in scarcely audible tones, with his face in very closeproximity with hers. I looked at Lord Lowborough. He was at theother end of the room, talking with Messrs. Hargrave and Grimsby;but I saw him dart towards his lady and his host a quick, impatientglance, expressive of intense disquietude, at which Grimsby smiled.Determined to interrupt the TETE-E-TETE, I rose, and, selecting apiece of music from the music stand, stepped up to the piano,intending to ask the lady to play it; but I stood transfixed andspeechless on seeing her seated there, listening, with what seemedan exultant smile on her flushed face to his soft murmurings, withher hand quietly surrendered to his clasp. The blood rushed firstto my heart, and then to my head; for there was more than this:almost at the moment of my approach, he cast a hurried glance overhis shoulder towards the other occupants of the room, and thenardently pressed the unresisting hand to his lips. On raising hiseyes, he beheld me, and dropped them again, confounded anddismayed. She saw me too, and confronted me with a look of harddefiance. I laid the music on the piano, and retired. I felt ill;but I did not leave the room: happily, it was getting late, andcould not be long before the company dispersed.

I went to the fire, and leant my head against the chimney-piece.In a minute or two, some one asked me if I felt unwell. I did notanswer; indeed, at the time, I knew not what was said; but Imechanically looked up, and saw Mr. Hargrave standing beside me onthe rug.

'Shall I get you a glass of wine?' said he.

'No, thank you,' I replied; and, turning from him, I looked round.Lady Lowborough was beside her husband, bending over him as he sat,with her hand on his shoulder, softly talking and smiling in hisface; and Arthur was at the table, turning over a book ofengravings. I seated myself in the nearest chair; and Mr.Hargrave, finding his services were not desired, judiciouslywithdrew. Shortly after, the company broke up, and, as the guestswere retiring to their rooms, Arthur approached me, smiling withthe utmost assurance.

'Are you very angry, Helen?' murmured he.

'This is no jest, Arthur,' said I, seriously, but as calmly as Icould - 'unless you think it a jest to lose my affection for ever.'

'What! so bitter?' he exclaimed, laughingly, clasping my handbetween both his; but I snatched it away, in indignation - almostin disgust, for he was obviously affected with wine.

'Then I must go down on my knees,' said he; and kneeling before me,with clasped hands, uplifted in mock humiliation, he continuedimploringly - 'Forgive me, Helen - dear Helen, forgive me, and I'llnever do it again!' and, burying his face in his handkerchief, heaffected to sob aloud.

Leaving him thus employed, I took my candle, and, slipping quietlyfrom the room, hastened up-stairs as fast as I could. But he soondiscovered that I had left him, and, rushing up after me, caught mein his arms, just as I had entered the chamber, and was about toshut the door in his face.

'No, no, by heaven, you sha'n't escape me so!' he cried. Then,alarmed at my agitation, he begged me not to put myself in such apassion, telling me I was white in the face, and should kill myselfif I did so.

'Let me go, then,' I murmured; and immediately he released me - andit was well he did, for I was really in a passion. I sank into theeasy-chair and endeavoured to compose myself, for I wanted to speakto him calmly. He stood beside me, but did not venture to touch meor to speak for a few seconds; then, approaching a little nearer,he dropped on one knee - not in mock humility, but to bring himselfnearer my level, and leaning his hand on the arm of the chair, hebegan in a low voice: 'It is all nonsense, Helen - a jest, a merenothing - not worth a thought. Will you never learn,' he continuedmore boldly, 'that you have nothing to fear from me? that I loveyou wholly and entirely? - or if,' he added with a lurking smile,'I ever give a thought to another, you may well spare it, for thosefancies are here and gone like a flash of lightning, while my lovefor you burns on steadily, and for ever, like the sun. You littleexorbitant tyrant, will not that -?'

'Be quiet a moment, will you, Arthur?' said I, 'and listen to me -and don't think I'm in a jealous fury: I am perfectly calm. Feelmy hand.' And I gravely extended it towards him - but closed itupon his with an energy that seemed to disprove the assertion, andmade him smile. 'You needn't smile, sir,' said I, still tighteningmy grasp, and looking steadfastly on him till he almost quailedbefore me. 'You may think it all very fine, Mr. Huntingdon, toamuse yourself with rousing my jealousy; but take care you don'trouse my hate instead. And when you have once extinguished mylove, you will find it no easy matter to kindle it again.'

'Well, Helen, I won't repeat the offence. But I meant nothing byit, I assure you. I had taken too much wine, and I was scarcelymyself at the time.'

'You often take too much; and that is another practice I detest.'He looked up astonished at my warmth. 'Yes,' I continued; 'I nevermentioned it before, because I was ashamed to do so; but now I'lltell you that it distresses me, and may disgust me, if you go onand suffer the habit to grow upon you, as it will if you don'tcheck it in time. But the whole system of your conduct to LadyLowborough is not referable to wine; and this night you knewperfectly well what you were doing.'

'Well, I'm sorry for it,' replied he, with more of sulkiness thancontrition: 'what more would you have?'

'You are sorry that I saw you, no doubt,' I answered coldly.

'If you had not seen me,' he muttered, fixing his eyes on thecarpet, 'it would have done no harm.'

My heart felt ready to burst; but I resolutely swallowed back myemotion, and answered calmly,

'You think not?'

'No,' replied he, boldly. 'After all, what have I done? It'snothing - except as you choose to make it a subject of accusationand distress.'

'What would Lord Lowborough, your friend, think, if he knew all? orwhat would you yourself think, if he or any other had acted thesame part to me, throughout, as you have to Annabella?'

'I would blow his brains out.'

'Well, then, Arthur, how can you call it nothing - an offence forwhich you would think yourself justified in blowing another man'sbrains out? Is it nothing to trifle with your friend's feelingsand mine - to endeavour to steal a woman's affections from herhusband - what he values more than his gold, and therefore what itis more dishonest to take? Are the marriage vows a jest; and is itnothing to make it your sport to break them, and to tempt anotherto do the same? Can I love a man that does such things, and coollymaintains it is nothing?'

'You are breaking your marriage vows yourself,' said he,indignantly rising and pacing to and fro. 'You promised to honourand obey me, and now you attempt to hector over me, and threatenand accuse me, and call me worse than a highwayman. If it were notfor your situation, Helen, I would not submit to it so tamely. Iwon't be dictated to by a woman, though she be my wife.'

'What will you do then? Will you go on till I hate you, and thenaccuse me of breaking my vows?'

He was silent a. moment, and then replied: 'You never will hateme.' Returning and resuming his former position at my feet, herepeated more vehemently - 'You cannot hate me as long as I loveyou.'

'But how can I believe that you love me, if you continue to act inthis way? Just imagine yourself in my place: would you think Iloved you, if I did so? Would you believe my protestations, andhonour and trust me under such circumstances? '

'The cases are different,' he replied. 'It is a woman's nature tobe constant - to love one and one only, blindly, tenderly, and forever - bless them, dear creatures! and you above them all; but youmust have some commiseration for us, Helen; you must give us alittle more licence, for, as Shakespeare has it -

However we do praise ourselves,Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,More longing, wavering, sooner lost and wonThan women's are.'

'Do you mean by that, that your fancies are lost to me, and won byLady Lowborough?'

'No! heaven is my witness that I think her mere dust and ashes incomparison with you, and shall continue to think so, unless youdrive me from you by too much severity. She is a daughter ofearth; you are an angel of heaven; only be not too austere in yourdivinity, and remember that I am a poor, fallible mortal. Comenow, Helen; won't you forgive me?' he said, gently taking my hand,and looking up with an innocent smile.

'If I do, you will repeat the offence.'

'I swear by - '

'Don't swear; I'll believe your word as well as your oath. I wishI could have confidence in either.'

'Try me, then, Helen: only trust and pardon me this once, and youshall see! Come, I am in hell's torments till you speak the word.'

I did not speak it, but I put my hand on his shoulder and kissedhis forehead, and then burst into tears. He embraced me tenderly;and we have been good friends ever since. He has been decentlytemperate at table, and well-conducted towards Lady Lowborough.The first day he held himself aloof from her, as far as he couldwithout any flagrant breach of hospitality: since that he has beenfriendly and civil, but nothing more - in my presence, at least,nor, I think, at any other time; for she seems haughty anddispleased, and Lord Lowborough is manifestly more cheerful, andmore cordial towards his host than before. But I shall be gladwhen they are gone, for I have so little love for Annabella that itis quite a task to be civil to her, and as she is the only womanhere besides myself, we are necessarily thrown so much together.Next time Mrs. Hargrave calls I shall hail her advent as quite arelief. I have a good mind to ask Arthur's leave to invite the oldlady to stay with us till our guests depart. I think I will. Shewill take it as a kind attention, and, though I have little relishfor her society, she will be truly welcome as a third to standbetween Lady Lowborough and me.

The first time the latter and I were alone together, after thatunhappy evening, was an hour or two after breakfast on thefollowing day, when the gentlemen were gone out, after the usualtime spent in the writing of letters, the reading of newspapers,and desultory conversation. We sat silent for two or threeminutes. She was busy with her work, and I was running over thecolumns of a paper from which I had extracted all the pith sometwenty minutes before. It was a moment of painful embarrassment tome, and I thought it must be infinitely more so to her; but itseems I was mistaken. She was the first to speak; and, smilingwith the coolest assurance, she began, -

'Your husband was merry last night, Helen: is he often so?'

My blood boiled in my face; but it was better she should seem toattribute his conduct to this than to anything else.

'No,' replied I, 'and never will be so again, I trust.'

'You gave him a curtain lecture, did you?'

'No! but I told him I disliked such conduct, and he promised me notto repeat it.'

'I thought he looked rather subdued this morning,' she continued;'and you, Helen? you've been weeping, I see - that's our grandresource, you know. But doesn't it make your eyes smart? and doyou always find it to answer?'

'I never cry for effect; nor can I conceive how any one can.'

'Well, I don't know: I never had occasion to try it; but I thinkif Lowborough were to commit such improprieties, I'd make him cry.I don't wonder at your being angry, for I'm sure I'd give myhusband a lesson he would not soon forget for a lighter offencethan that. But then he never will do anything of the kind; for Ikeep him in too good order for that.'

'Are you sure you don't arrogate too much of the credit toyourself. Lord Lowborough was quite as remarkable for hisabstemiousness for some time before you married him, as he is now,I have heard.'

'Oh, about the wine you mean - yes, he's safe enough for that. Andas to looking askance to another woman, he's safe enough for thattoo, while I live, for he worships the very ground I tread on.'

'Indeed! and are you sure you deserve it?'

'Why, as to that, I can't say: you know we're all falliblecreatures, Helen; we none of us deserve to be worshipped. But areyou sure your darling Huntingdon deserves all the love you give tohim?'

I knew not what to answer to this. I was burning with anger; but Isuppressed all outward manifestations of it, and only bit my lipand pretended to arrange my work.

'At any rate,' resumed she, pursuing her advantage, 'you canconsole yourself with the assurance that you are worthy of all thelove he gives to you.'

'You flatter me,' said I; 'but, at least, I can try to be worthy ofit.' And then I turned the conversation.