not deceived her, and that she rendered full justice to the motives that had determined him. He thought he could answer for it that she would marry him some day or other.
"Then she is a very cruel woman," I said, "and I should like, if you please, to hear no more about her." He protested against this, and, a month later, brought her up again, for a purpose. The purpose, you will see, was a very strange one indeed. I had then come back to town; it was the early part of December. I supposed he was hunting, with his own hounds; but he appeared one afternoon in my drawing-room and told me I should do him a great favor if I would go and see Lady Vandeleur.
"Go and see her? Where do you mean, in Norfolk?"
"She has come up to London—did n't you know it? She has a lot of business. She will be kept here till Christmas; I wish you would go."
"Why should I go?" I asked. "Won't you be kept here till Christmas too, and is n't that company enough for her?"
"Upon my word, you are cruel," he said, "and it's a great shame of you, when a man is trying to do his duty and is behaving like a saint."
"Is that what you call saintly, spending all your time with Lady Vandeleur? I will tell you whom I think a saint, if you would like to know."
"You need n't tell me; I know it better than you. I have n't a word to say against her; only she is stupid and has n't any perceptions. If I am stopping
