The next morning he knocked at the door of his wife's room, and
asked how she had passed the night.
"I have slept badly," she answered, "and I must beg you to excuse
my absence at breakfast-time." She called him back as he was about
to withdraw. "Remember," she said, "when you return from the
gallery to-day I expect that you will not return alone."
Three hours later he was at home again. The young lady's services
as a copyist were at his disposal; she had returned with him to
look at the drawings.
The sitting-room was empty when they entered it. He rang for
his wife's maid, and was informed that Mrs. Lismore had gone out.
Refusing to believe the woman, he went to his wife's apartments.
She was not to be found.
When he returned to the sitting-room the young lady was not unnaturally
offended. He could make allowances for her being a little out of
temper at the slight that had been put on her; but he was inexpressibly
disconcerted by the manner--almost the coarse manner--in which she
expressed herself.
"I have been talking to your wife's maid while you have been away,"
she said. "I find you have married an old lady for her money. She
is jealous of me, of course?"
"Let me beg you to alter your opinion," he answered.
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