from the place, after our simple breakfast, the
time was come when I must do what I had
pledged myself to them that I would do: break
the intelligence to my Lady.

I went up to the house, and found my Lady
in her ordinary business-room. She happened
to have an unusual amount of commissions to
entrust to me that day, and she had filled my
hands with papers before l could originate a word.

"My Lady"—I then began, as I stood beside
her table.

"Why, what's the matter!" she said, quickly,
looking up.

"Not much, I would fain hope, after you shall
have prepared yourself, and considered a little."

"Prepared myself! And considered a little!
You appear to have prepared yourself but
indifferently, anyhow, Mr. Silverman." This,
mighty scornfully, as I experienced my usual
embarrassment under her stare.

Said I, in self-extenuation, once for all:
"Lady Fareway, I have but to say for myself
that I have tried to do my duty."

"For yourself?" repeated my Lady. "Then
there are others concerned, I see. Who are
they?"

I was about to answer, when she made
towards the bell with a dart that stopped me, and
said: "Why, where is Adelina!"

"Forbear. Be calm, my Lady. I married
her this morning to Mr. Granville Wharton."

She set her lips, looked more intently at me
than ever, raised her right hand and smote me
hard upon the cheek.

"Give me back those papers, give me back
those papers!" She tore them out of my hands
and tossed them on her table. Then seating
herself defiantly in her great chair, and folding
her arms, she stabbed me to the heart with the
unlooked-for reproach: "You worldly wretch!"

"Worldly?" I cried. "Worldly!"

"This, if you please," she went on with
supreme scorn, pointing me out as if there
were some one there to see: "this, if you
please, is the disinterested scholar, with not a
design beyond his books! This, if you please,
is the simple creature whom anyone could
overreach in a bargain! This, if you please, is Mr.
Silverman! Not of this world, not he! He
has too much simplicity for this world's
cunning. He has too much singleness of purpose
to be a match for this world's double-dealing.—
What did he give you for it?"

"For what? And who?"

"How much," she asked, bending forward
in her great chair, and insultingly tapping the
fingers of her right hand on the palm of her
left: "how much does Mr. Granville Wharton
pay you for getting him Adelina's money?
What is the amount of your percentage upon
Adelina's fortune? What were the terms of the
agreement that you proposed to this boy when
you, the Reverend George Silverman, licensed
to marry, engaged to put him in possession of
this girl? You made good terms for yourself,
whatever they were. He would stand a poor
chance against your keenness."

Bewildered, horrified, stunned, by this cruel
perversion, I could not speak. But I trust
that I looked innocent, being so.

"Listen to me, shrewd hypocrite," said my
Lady, whose anger increased as she gave it
utterance. "Attend to my words, you cunning
schemer who have carried this plot through
with such a practised double face that I have
never suspected you. I had my projects for my
daughter; projects for family connexion;
projects for fortune. You have thwarted them,
and overreached me; but I am not one to be
thwarted and overreached, without retaliation.
Do you mean to hold this Living, another
month?"

"Do you deem it possible, Lady Fareway,
that I can hold it another hour, under your
injurious words?"

"Is it resigned then?"

"It was mentally resigned, my Lady, some
minutes ago."

"Don't equivocate, sir. Is it resigned?"

"Unconditionally and entirely. And I would
that I had never, never, come near it!"

"A cordial response from me to that wish,
Mr. Silverman! But take this with you, sir.
If you had not resigned it, I would have had
you deprived of it. And though you have
resigned it, you will not get quit of me as easily
as you think for. I will pursue you with this
story. I will make this nefarious conspiracy of
yours, for money, known. You have made
money by it, but you have, at the same time,
made an enemy by it. You will take good care
that the money sticks to you; I will take good
care that the enemy sticks to you."

Then said I, finally: "Lady Fareway, I think
my heart is broken. Until I came into this
room just now, the possibility of such mean
wickedness as you have imputed to me, never
dawned upon my thoughts. Your suspicions—"

"Suspicions. Pah!" said she indignantly.
"Certainties."

"Your certainties, my Lady, as you call
them; your suspicions, as I call them; are
cruel, unjust, wholly devoid of foundation in
fact. I can declare no more, except that I have
not acted for my own profit or my own pleasure.
I have not in this proceeding, considered myself.
Once again, I think my heart is broken. If I
have unwittingly done any wrong with a righteous
motive, that is some penalty to pay."

She received this with another and a more
indignant "Pah!" and I made my way out of her
room (I think I felt my way out with my hands,
although my eyes were open), almost suspecting
that my voice had a repulsive sound, and that I
was a repulsive object.

There was a great stir made, the Bishop was
appealed to, I received a severe reprimand, and
narrowly escaped suspension. For years a cloud
hung over me, and my name was tarnished.
But my heart did not break, if a broken heart
involves death; for I lived through it.

They stood by me, Adelina and her husband,
through it all. Those who had known me at
College, and even most of those who had only
known me there by reputation, stood by me too.