December 20th, 1826. - The fifth anniversary of my wedding-day,and, I trust, the last I shall spend under this roof. Myresolution is formed, my plan concocted, and already partly put inexecution. My conscience does not blame me, but while the purposeripens let me beguile a few of these long winter evenings instating the case for my own satisfaction: a dreary amusementenough, but having the air of a useful occupation, and beingpursued as a task, it will suit me better than a lighter one.

In September, quiet Grassdale was again alive with a party ofladies and gentlemen (so called), consisting of the sameindividuals as those invited the year before last, with theaddition of two or three others, among whom were Mrs. Hargrave andher younger daughter. The gentlemen and Lady Lowborough wereinvited for the pleasure and convenience of the host; the otherladies, I suppose, for the sake of appearances, and to keep me incheck, and make me discreet and civil in my demeanour. But theladies stayed only three weeks; the gentlemen, with two exceptions,above two months: for their hospitable entertainer was loth topart with them and be left alone with his bright intellect, hisstainless conscience, and his loved and loving wife.

On the day of Lady Lowborough's arrival, I followed her into herchamber, and plainly told her that, if I found reason to believethat she still continued her criminal connection with Mr.Huntingdon, I should think it my absolute duty to inform herhusband of the circumstance - or awaken his suspicions at least -however painful it might be, or however dreadful the consequences.She was startled at first by the declaration, so unexpected, and sodeterminately yet calmly delivered; but rallying in a moment, shecoolly replied that, if I saw anything at all reprehensible orsuspicious in her conduct, she would freely give me leave to tellhis lordship all about it. Willing to be satisfied with this, Ileft her; and certainly I saw nothing thenceforth particularlyreprehensible or suspicious in her demeanour towards her host; butthen I had the other guests to attend to, and I did not watch themnarrowly - for, to confess the truth, I feared to see anythingbetween them. I no longer regarded it as any concern of mine, andif it was my duty to enlighten Lord Lowborough, it was a painfulduty, and I dreaded to be called to perform it.

But my fears were brought to an end in a manner I had notanticipated. One evening, about a fortnight after the visitors'arrival, I had retired into the library to snatch a few minutes'respite from forced cheerfulness and wearisome discourse, for afterso long a period of seclusion, dreary indeed as I had often foundit, I could not always bear to be doing violence to my feelings,and goading my powers to talk, and smile and listen, and play theattentive hostess, or even the cheerful friend: I had justensconced myself within the bow of the window, and was looking outupon the west, where the darkening hills rose sharply definedagainst the clear amber light of evening, that gradually blendedand faded away into the pure, pale blue of the upper sky, where onebright star was shining through, as if to promise - 'When thatdying light is gone, the world will not be left in darkness, andthey who trust in God, whose minds are unbeclouded by the mists ofunbelief and sin, are never wholly comfortless,' - when I heard ahurried step approaching, and Lord Lowborough entered. This roomwas still his favourite resort. He flung the door to with unusualviolence, and cast his hat aside regardless where it fell. Whatcould be the matter with him? His face was ghastly pale; his eyeswere fixed upon the ground; his teeth clenched: his foreheadglistened with the dews of agony. It was plain he knew his wrongsat last!

Unconscious of my presence, he began to pace the room in a state offearful agitation, violently wringing his hands and uttering lowgroans or incoherent ejaculations. I made a movement to let himknow that he was not alone; but he was too preoccupied to noticeit. Perhaps, while his back was towards me, I might cross the roomand slip away unobserved. I rose to make the attempt, but then heperceived me. He started and stood still a moment; then wiped hisstreaming forehead, and, advancing towards me, with a kind ofunnatural composure, said in a deep, almost sepulchral tone, -'Mrs. Huntingdon, I must leave you to-morrow.'

'To-morrow!' I repeated. 'I do not ask the cause.'

'You know it then, and you can be so calm!' said he, surveying mewith profound astonishment, not unmingled with a kind of resentfulbitterness, as it appeared to me.

'I have so long been aware of - ' I paused in time, and added, 'ofmy husband's character, that nothing shocks me.'

'But this - how long have you been aware of this?' demanded he,laying his clenched hand on the table beside him, and looking mekeenly and fixedly in the face.

I felt like a criminal.

'Not long,' I answered.

'You knew it!' cried he, with bitter vehemence - 'and you did nottell me! You helped to deceive me!'

'My lord, I did not help to deceive you.'

'Then why did you not tell me?'

'Because I knew it would be painful to you. I hoped she wouldreturn to her duty, and then there would be no need to harrow yourfeelings with such - '

'O God! how long has this been going on? How long has it been,Mrs. Huntingdon? - Tell me - I must know!' exclaimed, with intenseand fearful eagerness.

'Two years, I believe.'

'Great heaven! and she has duped me all this time!' He turned awaywith a suppressed groan of agony, and paced the room again in aparoxysm of renewed agitation. My heart smote me; but I would tryto console him, though I knew not how to attempt it.

'She is a wicked woman,' I said. 'She has basely deceived andbetrayed you. She is as little worthy of your regret as she was ofyour affection. Let her injure you no further; abstract yourselffrom her, and stand alone.'

'And you, Madam,' said he sternly, arresting himself, and turninground upon me, 'you have injured me too by this ungenerousconcealment!'

There was a sudden revulsion in my feelings. Something rose withinme, and urged me to resent this harsh return for my heartfeltsympathy, and defend myself with answering severity. Happily, Idid not yield to the impulse. I saw his anguish as, suddenlysmiting his forehead, he turned abruptly to the window, and,looking upward at the placid sky, murmured passionately, 'O God,that I might die!' - and felt that to add one drop of bitterness tothat already overflowing cup would be ungenerous indeed. And yet Ifear there was more coldness than gentleness in the quiet tone ofmy reply:- 'I might offer many excuses that some would admit to bevalid, but I will not attempt to enumerate them - '

'I know them,' said he hastily: 'you would say that it was nobusiness of yours: that I ought to have taken care of myself; thatif my own blindness has led me into this pit of hell, I have noright to blame another for giving me credit for a larger amount ofsagacity than I possessed - '

'I confess I was wrong,' continued I, without regarding this bitterinterruption; 'but whether want of courage or mistaken kindness wasthe cause of my error, I think you blame me too severely. I toldLady Lowborough two weeks ago, the very hour she came, that Ishould certainly think it my duty to inform you if she continued todeceive you: she gave me full liberty to do so if I should seeanything reprehensible or suspicious in her conduct; I have seennothing; and I trusted she had altered her course.'

He continued gazing from the window while I spoke, and did notanswer, but, stung by the recollections my words awakened, stampedhis foot upon the floor, ground his teeth, and corrugated his brow,like one under the influence of acute physical pain.

'It was wrong, it was wrong!' he muttered at length. 'Nothing canexcuse it; nothing can atone for it, - for nothing can recall thoseyears of cursed credulity; nothing obliterate them! - nothing,nothing!' he repeated in a whisper, whose despairing bitternessprecluded all resentment.

'When I put the case to myself, I own it was wrong,' I answered;'but I can only now regret that I did not see it in this lightbefore, and that, as you say, nothing can recall the past.'

Something in my voice or in the spirit of this answer seemed toalter his mood. Turning towards me, and attentively surveying myface by the dim light, he said, in a milder tone than he had yetemployed, - 'You, too, have suffered, I suppose.'

'I suffered much, at first.'

'When was that?'

'Two years ago; and two years hence you will be as calm as I amnow, and far, far happier, I trust, for you are a man, and free toact as you please.'

Something like a smile, but a very bitter one, crossed his face fora moment.

'You have not been happy, lately?' he said, with a kind of effortto regain composure, and a determination to waive the furtherdiscussion of his own calamity.

'Happy?' I repeated, almost provoked at such a question. 'Could Ibe so, with such a husband?'

'I have noticed a change in your appearance since the first yearsof your marriage,' pursued he: 'I observed it to - to thatinfernal demon,' he muttered between his teeth; 'and he said it wasyour own sour temper that was eating away your bloom: it wasmaking you old and ugly before your time, and had already made hisfireside as comfortless as a convent cell. You smile, Mrs.Huntingdon; nothing moves you. I wish my nature were as calm asyours.'

'My nature was not originally calm,' said I. 'I have learned toappear so by dint of hard lessons and many repeated efforts.'

At this juncture Mr. Hattersley burst into the room.

'Hallo, Lowborough!' he began - 'Oh! I beg your pardon,' heexclaimed on seeing me. 'I didn't know it was A TETE-E-TETE.Cheer up, man,' he continued, giving Lord Lowborough a thump on theback, which caused the latter to recoil from him with looks ofineffable disgust and irritation. 'Come, I want to speak with youa bit.'

'Speak, then.'

'But I'm not sure it would be quite agreeable to the lady what Ihave to say.'

'Then it would not be agreeable to me,' said his lordship, turningto leave the room.

'Yes, it would,' cried the other, following him into the hall. 'Ifyou've the heart of a man, it would be the very ticket for you.It's just this, my lad,' he continued, rather lowering his voice,but not enough to prevent me from hearing every word he said,though the half-closed door stood between us. 'I think you're anill-used man - nay, now, don't flare up; I don't want to offendyou: it's only my rough way of talking. I must speak right out,you know, or else not at all; and I'm come - stop now! let meexplain - I'm come to offer you my services, for though Huntingdonis my friend, he's a devilish scamp, as we all know, and I'll beyour friend for the nonce. I know what it is you want, to makematters straight: it's just to exchange a shot with him, and thenyou'll feel yourself all right again; and if an accident happens -why, that'll be all right too, I daresay, to a desperate fellowlike you. Come now, give me your hand, and don't look so blackupon it. Name time and place, and I'll manage the rest.'

'That,' answered the more low, deliberate voice of Lord Lowborough,'is just the remedy my own heart, or the devil within it, suggested- to meet him, and not to part without blood. Whether I or heshould fall, or both, it would be an inexpressible relief to me, if- '

'Just so! Well then, - '

'No!' exclaimed his lordship, with deep, determined emphasis.'Though I hate him from my heart, and should rejoice at anycalamity that could befall him, I'll leave him to God; and though Iabhor my own life, I'll leave that, too, to Him that gave it.'

'But you see, in this case,' pleaded Hattersley -

'I'll not hear you!' exclaimed his companion, hastily turning away.'Not another word! I've enough to do against the fiend within me.'

'Then you're a white-livered fool, and I wash my hands of you,'grumbled the tempter, as he swung himself round and departed.

'Right, right, Lord Lowborough,' cried I, darting out and claspinghis burning hand, as he was moving away to the stairs. 'I begin tothink the world is not worthy of you!' Not understanding thissudden ebullition, he turned upon me with a stare of gloomy,bewildered amazement, that made me ashamed of the impulse to whichI had yielded; but soon a more humanised expression dawned upon hiscountenance, and before I could withdraw my hand, he pressed itkindly, while a gleam of genuine feeling flashed from his eyes ashe murmured, 'God help us both!'

'Amen!' responded I; and we parted.

I returned to the drawing-room, where, doubtless, my presence wouldbe expected by most, desired by one or two. In the ante-room wasMr. Hattersley, railing against Lord Lowborough's poltroonerybefore a select audience, viz. Mr. Huntingdon, who was loungingagainst the table, exulting in his own treacherous villainy, andlaughing his victim to scorn, and Mr. Grimsby, standing by, quietlyrubbing his hands and chuckling with fiendish satisfaction.

In the drawing-room I found Lady Lowborough, evidently in no veryenviable state of mind, and struggling hard to conceal herdiscomposure by an overstrained affectation of unusual cheerfulnessand vivacity, very uncalled-for under the circumstances, for shehad herself given the company to understand that her husband hadreceived unpleasant intelligence from home, which necessitated hisimmediate departure, and that he had suffered it so to bother hismind that it had brought on a bilious headache, owing to which, andthe preparations he judged necessary to hasten his departure, shebelieved they would not have the pleasure of seeing him to-night.However, she asserted, it was only a business concern, and so shedid not intend it should trouble her. She was just saying this asI entered, and she darted upon me such a glance of hardihood anddefiance as at once astonished and revolted me.

'But I am troubled,' continued she, 'and vexed too, for I think itmy duty to accompany his lordship, and of course I am very sorry topart with all my kind friends so unexpectedly and so soon.'

'And yet, Annabella,' said Esther, who was sitting beside her, 'Inever saw you in better spirits in my life.'

'Precisely so, my love: because I wish to make the best of yoursociety, since it appears this is to be the last night I am toenjoy it till heaven knows when; and I wish to leave a goodimpression on you all,' - she glanced round, and seeing her aunt'seye fixed upon her, rather too scrutinizingly, as she probablythought, she started up and continued: 'To which end I'll give youa song - shall I, aunt? shall I, Mrs. Huntingdon? shall I ladiesand gentlemen all? Very well. I'll do my best to amuse you.'

She and Lord Lowborough occupied the apartments next to mine. Iknow not how she passed the night, but I lay awake the greater partof it listening to his heavy step pacing monotonously up and downhis dressing-room, which was nearest my chamber. Once I heard himpause and throw something out of the window with a passionateejaculation; and in the morning, after they were gone, a keen-bladed clasp-knife was found on the grass-plot below; a razor,likewise, was snapped in two and thrust deep into the cinders ofthe grate, but partially corroded by the decaying embers. Sostrong had been the temptation to end his miserable life, sodetermined his resolution to resist it.

My heart bled for him as I lay listening to that ceaseless tread.Hitherto I had thought too much of myself, too little of him: nowI forgot my own afflictions, and thought only of his; of the ardentaffection so miserably wasted, the fond faith so cruelly betrayed,the - no, I will not attempt to enumerate his wrongs - but I hatedhis wife and my husband more intensely than ever, and not for mysake, but for his.

They departed early in the morning, before any one else was down,except myself, and just as I was leaving my room Lord Lowboroughwas descending to take his place in the carriage, where his ladywas already ensconced; and Arthur (or Mr. Huntingdon, as I prefercalling him, for the other is my child's name) had the gratuitousinsolence to come out in his dressing-gown to bid his 'friend'good-by.

'What, going already, Lowborough!' said he. 'Well, good-morning.'He smilingly offered his hand.

I think the other would have knocked him down, had he notinstinctively started back before that bony fist quivering withrage and clenched till the knuckles gleamed white and glisteningthrough the skin. Looking upon him with a countenance livid withfurious hate, Lord Lowborough muttered between his closed teeth adeadly execration he would not have uttered had he been calm enoughto choose his words, and departed.

'I call that an unchristian spirit now,' said the villain. 'ButI'd never give up an old friend for the sake of a wife. You mayhave mine if you like, and I call that handsome; I can do no morethan offer restitution, can I?'

But Lowborough had gained the bottom of the stairs, and was nowcrossing the hall; and Mr. Huntingdon, leaning over the banisters,called out, 'Give my love to Annabella! and I wish you both a happyjourney,' and withdrew, laughing, to his chamber.

He subsequently expressed himself rather glad she was gone. 'Shewas so deuced imperious and exacting,' said he. 'Now I shall be myown man again, and feel rather more at my ease.'