A London Life; The Patagonia; The Liar; Mrs. Temperly

e was too angry-not with him but with Selina-and in addition to being angry she was sick. She knew who Lady Ringrose was; she knew so many things to-day that when sh

's, in London, though she herself had not seen her there. But she had not known they were so intimate as that-that Selina would rush over to Paris with her. What they had gone to Paris for was not necessarily criminal; there were

the mark of Selina's complete, irremediable frivolity-the worst accusation (Laura tried to cling to that opinion) that she laid herself open to. Of course frivolity that was never ashamed of itself was like a neglected cold-you could die of it morally as well as of anything else. Laura knew this and it was why she was inexpressibly vexed with her sister. She hoped she should get a letter from Selina the next morning (Mrs. Berrington would show at least that remnant of propriety) which would give her a chance to despatch her an answer that was already writing

mind. Miss Steet was more frightened than herself-she was a very shrinking bulwark. The dinner was dull and the conversation rare; the governess ate three olives and looked at the figures on the spoons. Laura had more than ever her sense of impending calamity; a draught of misfortune seemed to blow through the house; it chilled her feet under her chair. The letter she had in her head went out like a flame in the wind and her only thought now was to telegraph to Selina the first thing in the morning, in quite different words. She scarcely spoke

ad said before. He didn't strike her as tipsy now; he had slept it off or got rid of it and she saw no traces of his headache. He was still conspicuously cheerful, as if he had got some good news and were very much encouraged. She knew the news he had got and she might have thought, in view of his manner, that it could not really have seemed to him so bad as he had pretended to think it. It was not the first time however

her with his hands in his pockets and the air he himself had of being a good-natured but dissipated boy; with his small stature, his smooth, fat, suffused face, his round, watery, light-coloured eyes and his hair growing in curious infantile ri

ents at my sister's expense,'

is as well as I do!' They stood looking at each other a moment and he appeared to see som

love each other-

me and hear me crack, like a black beetle, and she never opens her mouth but she insults me.' Lionel Berrington delivered himself of these assertions without violence, without passion or the

urning pale. 'Is that the particul

l you?' he went on. 'Ain't I quiet, ain't I kind, don't I go stead

No more does she-and perhaps it's even worse in a woman. You are both as selfish as you can live, with nothing in your head or your heart but your vulgar pleasure, incapable o

all me kind when I stand here and take all that? If I'm so keen for my pleasure what pleasure do you give me? Look

forgive you! You are all blind and senseless and heartless and I don't know what poison is in your veins

me and read the Bible?' her companion demanded with an e

you any harm,

aid Lionel Berrington, indulging in a visible approach to a wink. 'Have I done the half to h

e has done to you,' s

you. But it's difficult. I'll bet

marked, not shrinking now from the enjoyment of an advantage

. 'You see everything-you're one of the sharp ones. There's no use beating about the bush, Laura-you've lived in this precious house and you're not so green as that comes to. Besides, you're so good yourself that you needn't give a shriek if one is obliged to say what one means. Why didn't you grow up a little sooner? Then, over there in New York, it

ust sit up to listen to, Lione

nine o'clock, do you? That's all rot,

lp you

haps I was too free; if I was I beg your pardon. I made the governess bolt-very proper in the superintendent of one's children. Do

tle enough to

g. I don't know when I've fancied a

you to

n Paris. I hope sh

erstand you,

ar, it suits my book! Now you kn

before-a little shining point which on Lionel's part might represent an idea, but which made hi

Lionel Berrington accompanied thi

as he t

g to do. Isn't he

know? You said

e at that. I'm sorry to have to say it to you, but he

d opposed, and then Laura asked-and the questio

like all the rest?' said h

I suppose you have a certain amount of

of! And not only about Cri

who is D

o India. That was before you came. I don't say all

e girl with a singular laugh.

e gone into it most extensively; there's nothing you can't find out to-day-if you go to the right place. I've-I've--' He hesitated a moment, then went on: 'Well, it's no matter what I've done. I k

ot true-it's not true

y she'll say it. Oh, if she could get off by your say

d, with a coldness she failed to feel, for s

talking about? I'm going to ha

ng to make

I'm going to appeal to the laws of my country-that's what I'm going to do.

t do anything so horrible,

asily understand that I can't. They are not nice things to say to a girl like you-especially about Deepmere, if

ot true,' Laura Wing repeated, in t

you, that you ought to have some pity for me and some sense of justice. Haven'

uxuries with which he was surrounded, and to herself personally she had never known him anything but good-natured.

her-what d

ere shall be no more talk of these horrors. Lea

let you come within a mile o

cried Laura Wing, tu

hat would sicken most men. Therefore I will say that you ought to be fair. You're too clever not to be; you can't pretend to swallow--' He paused a moment and went on, and she saw it was his idea-an idea very simple and bold. He wanted her to side with him-to watch for him-to help him to get his divorce. He forbore to say that she owed him as much for the

ured. She had stood there passive, waiting while he talked, covering

you not to deny what you have

of which you say you have

ven't I

t me to com

d I expect you not to forget that I have given it. Don't forget-because you'll be asked-that

asked?' the g

e you'll be cr

g the door, let her pass, she burst into tears. He looked after her, distressed, compunctious, half-ashamed