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 money which you pride yourself on having secured. Your must have been strangely forgetful when you talked to me, as you did just now, of having 'raised yourself to the position you always longed for,' and of having 'skill to scheme and courage to carry out' what you desire. You forgot, surely, that in those words you reminded me that you longed for your present position while you were my promised wife; and that you were bringing your skill and your courage to work to obtain it, while I was striving, and hoping, and slaving for you."

"We had better put an end to this interview," said Marian, attempting to rise. "Ah, Walter, spare me!"

"Spare you!" he cried in unaltered tones. "Did you spare me while all this was going on? Did you spare me when—" he opened a drawer at his side and took out a folded paper, "when you wrote me this cruel letter, blasting my hopes and driving me to despair, and almost to madness? Spare you! Whom have you spared? Did you spare those girls, the nieces of the kindly old man whom you married, or, because they were in your way, did not have them turned out of his house, their natural home? Did you spare the old man himself, when you saw him fretting against the step which you had compelled him to take? Whom have you spared, whom have you not over-ridden, in your reckless career of avarice and ambition?"

She sat cowed and trembling for a moment, then raised her head and looked at him with flashing eyes.

"I am much obliged to you Mr. Joyce," she said in a very hard voice, "I am much obliged to you for permitting me to be present at a private rehearsal of one of your speeches. It was very good, and does you great credit. You have decidedly improved since I saw you on the platform at Brocksopp. Your style is perhaps a little turgid, a little bombastic, but that is doubtless in accordance with the taste of those of whose sentiments you are the chosen and the popular exponent. I must ask you to see me to the cab at the door. I am unaccustomed to London, and have no footman with me. Thanks!" And she walked out of the door which he had opened for her, with a volcano raging in her breast, but with the most perfect outward composure.

See the curtain now about to drop on this little drama—comedy of manners, rather—where nothing and no one has been in extremes; where the virtuous people have not been wholly virtuous; and where the wickedest have had far less carmine and tinsel than the Author has on former occasions found a necessity to use. There is no need to "dress" the characters with military precision in a straight line, for there is no "tag" to be spoken, no set speech to be delivered, and, moreover, the characters are all dispersed.

Gertrude and her husband are in their seaside home, happy in each other and their children. Walter and his wife are very happy, too, in their quiet way. He has not made any wonderful position for himself, as yet; but he is doing well and is highly thought of by his party. Dr. Osborne has retired from practice, but most of the Helmingham and Brooksopp folk are going on much in their usual way.

And Marian Creswell? The woman with the peaked face and the scanty hair turning grey, who is seldom at her own house, but appears suddenly at Brighton, Bath, Cheltenham, or Torquay, and disappears as suddenly, is Marian Creswell. The quarry of impostors and sycophants, she has not one friend in whom to confide, one creature to care for her. She is alone with her wealth, and it is merely a burden to her, but has not the power of affording her the smallest gratification.