After a time he controlled himself so that he could look up. "Give me a bed to-night, my boy," he said. "I shall leave by the first train to-morrow morning, but I could not sleep in the Abbey to-night. It would be only an unnecessary pain. You understand it, do not you? My life is over there, and my wife will be best left alone." "Yes, yes; I see it all!" said Ringrove excitedly. "I cannot talk of it! I should say what I should regret after. Yes, come home with me. My house is yours-my purse is yours; you are my friend, my elder brother, and I have nothing which is not yours, if you like to have it.” "Thank you, my boy," Richard answered simply. "I knew what you were. All that I want from you however is a bed to-night, and that you will be my agent when I am gone. Befriend my men and give a look now and then to her. And do not judge her harshly, Ringrove. She has not done me this wrong of her own will. She has been overcome." His words came abruptly to an end, and he got up and walked to the fireplace. For the moment he had forgotten Virginia and his bitter cause of grief against her mother, and remembered only Hermione-his wife, the woman whom he had loved with such calm intensity of trust, such fondness of faithful affection, and whom he had lost, in truth he scarcely knew how ! After a while he turned back. "Now let us go," he said. "Let me only say that you said Ringrove in a low voice. "This is simply losing strength." may trust me as you would yourself," "I love her too well and believe in her real goodness too thoroughly not to treat her with deference and respect, as much for her sake as for yours; and I may perhaps do a little good," he added. "You will do no good," said Richard. far, and she believes too much." "Things have gone too "Tom Moorhead was right, brutal as he is-that man is good only for killing!" said Ringrove passionately. "Better kill the superstitious ignorance whence he draws his power. The people who mislead are as much to be pitied as those who are misled. They believe what they teach," was Richard's characteristic answer, wishing to be just even to Mr. Lascelles. Then they passed out into the soft, sweet, fragrant evening air, and drove home by the highway to Monkshall-the Abbey left for ever. That night Hermione woke with a start from a confused and troubled dream. As she woke up more thoroughly she felt that some one was in the room, and, half dreaming as she was, she thought it was her husband-old habit stronger than new conditions. "Richard, dear!" she said in a tender sleepy voice. Only semi-conscious, the excitement of her spiritual suttee had passed away, and she had come back to her living natural self. "Richard, darling!" she said again in that sleepy, warm, caressing voice. The curtain of the bed drew slowly back, and Edith Everett stood white and tall by her side. "My poor sister, you are dreaming!" she said in her smooth tones, through which penetrated the cold smile that made that smoothness glacial. "Wake up, Hermione! Satan has inspired this vision. Shake off this horrible possession." "Give me my husband! give me back Richard !" cried Hermione with an hysterical cry, spreading out her arms and flinging her head wildly on the pillow. Edith took the soft round dimpled arm in her strong and nervous grasp. She forced the frightened woman back to her former position, and laid the crucifix, which she snatched from the little table by the side, as a kind of exorcistic charm on the heaving breast. "Do you want to become a castaway?" she said in a low stern voice. "Your love for your atheistic husband is a crime, a sin against your womanhood! You shall not go back to him. I will keep you sacred to our Lord even against your will!" "You frighten me! you hurt me!" cried Hermione, half rising and trying to struggle herself free. "Richard! Richard!" "Fool!" said Mrs. Everett, flinging her back roughly and holding her down as harshly. You are too contemptible! But you shall submit! You shall not have your own will!" It was the old story-the whip of Mr. Lascelles and the scorpions of Edith Everett-tyranny, contempt, and cruelty, when the end had been attained and there was no longer need of flattery and cajolery! The next morning when the gong sounded for breakfast no one appeared save Mrs. Everett; Hermione was in bed with headache and fever, and Richard was already on his way to London, finally conquered and driven out. The fight had been fought out to the end-if indeed that can be called a fight which had been active on one side only, on the other the mere passive resistance of one whose hands had been tied and his weapons of defence taken from him from the first. Such as it had been however it was now over, and the way was cleared of all obstruction. The new brooms might sweep where they would" the besom of destruction," said Mr. Lascelles, smiling with that saintly waggishness of his kind when they base their humour on the Old Testament, for which they have at the best but a problematical kind of respect. And the besom of destruction set to work pretty sharply-grass growing under the horses' hoofs not being to the liking of Mr. Lascelles. On the receipt of a note from Edith Everett the vicar came up to the Abbey by ten o'clock, ostensibly to comfort Hermione in this undeserved affliction of her husband's cruel desertion. "Had he been really the unselfish creature he passed for, he would have kept by you to help you in your new duties," said Mr. Lascelles. "He knew how helpless he had made you for his own purpose; and now to leave you in the midst of your difficulties !—It is too cruel!" "The dear little woman need not fret about that," said Edith's calm smooth voice. "You and I, Superior, have both good business heads, and we can help her. Would you like us to look at the things to-day, dear?" to poor, flushed, feverish Hermione. "If we do, we shall be ready for you to-morrow. And something must be done legally about those leases. The men already in possession-there are two, I think you said, Superior?-must have their notice to quit properly given. You must be careful to be on the right side of the law. Shall we see to all this for you?" "Yes," said Hermione, too ill and unhappy to care much what she said or what was done. "Then we will leave you, dear, to get a little sleep," answered Edith, with a look at Mr. Lascelles. "Shall we go down at once, Superior, while you have the time to give?" "It will be best," said the vicar, unconsciously falling into the second place while appearing to hold the first-acting as was suggested while seeming to keep the command. "I have an hour free for this painful but necessary duty. Our friend here must not feel herself deserted or without help. Now sleep, and be at rest!" he added, making the sign of benediction over her while he repeated the words. "Sleep! knowing that the Church holds you as her dearest daughter, and that Our Lord is well pleased with you!" But, for all that, her husband was banished, and she knew in her own heart that she had broken his. Then the two, going down stairs, went into the study, and began their work of inquisition. Such and such a thing in this infidel collection of natural science Mr. Lascelles resolved to take down to the |