not long after these events came the county ball. griffith was there, but no mrs. gaunt. this excited surprise, and, among the gentlemen, disappointment. they asked griffith if she was unwell; he thanked them drily, she was very well; and that was all they could get out of him. but to the ladies he let out that she had given up balls, and, indeed, all reasonable pleasures. "she does nothing but fast, and pray, and visit the sick." he added, with rather a weak smile: "i see next to nothing of her." a minx stood by and put in her word. "you should catch the small-pox; then who knows? she might look in upon you."

griffith laughed, but not heartily. in truth, mrs. gaunt's religious fervour knew no bounds. absorbed in pious schemes and religious duties, she had little time, and much distaste, for frivolous society; invited none but the devout, and found polite excuses for not dining abroad. she sent her husband into the world alone, and laden with apologies. "my wife is turned saint. 'tis a sin to dance, a sin to hunt, a sin to enjoy ourselves. we are here to fast and pray, and build schools, and go to church twice a day."

and so he went about publishing his household ill; but, to tell the truth, a secret satisfaction peeped through his lugubrious accents. an ugly saint is an unmixed calamity to jolly fellows; but to be lord and master, and possessor of a beautiful saint, was not without its piquant charm. his jealousy was dormant, not extinct; and kate's piety tickled that foible, not wounded it. he found himself the rival of heaven; and the successful rival; for, let her be ever so strict, ever so devout, she must give her husband many comforts she could not give to heaven.

this soft and piquant phase of the passion did not last long. all things are progressive.

brother leonard was director now as well as confessor; his visits became frequent; and mrs. gaunt often quoted his authority for her acts or her sentiments. so griffith began to suspect that the change in his wife was entirely due to leonard; and that with all her eloquence and fervour she was but a priest's echo. this galled him. to be sure leonard was only an ecclesiastic; but, if he had been a woman, griffith was the man to wince. his wife to lean so on another: his wife to withdraw from the social pleasures she had hitherto shared with him; and all because another human creature disapproved them. he writhed in silence a while, and then remonstrated. he was met at first with ridicule: "are you going to be jealous of my confessor?" and, on repeating the offence, with a kind, but grave admonition, that silenced him for the time, but did not cure him, nor even convince him.

the facts were too strong: kate was no longer to him the genial companion she had been; gone was the ready sympathy with which she had listened to all his little earthly concerns; and, as for his hay-making, he might as well talk about it to an iceberg as to the partner of his bosom.

he was genial by nature, and could not live without sympathy. he sought it in the parlour of the "red lion."

mrs. gaunt's high-bred nostrils told her where he haunted, and it caused her dismay. woman-like, instead of opening her battery at once, she wore a gloomy and displeased air, which a few months ago would have served her turn and brought about an explanation at once; but griffith took it for a stronger dose of religious sentiment, and trundled off to the "red lion," all the more.

so then at last she spoke her mind; and asked him how he could lower himself so, and afflict her.

"oh!" said he, doggedly, "this house is too cold for me now. my mate is priest-rid. plague on the knave that hath put coldness 'twixt thee and me."

mrs. gaunt froze visibly, and said no more at that time.

one bit of sunshine remained in the house and shone brighter than ever on its chilled master; shone through two black, seducing eyes.

some three months before the date we have now reached, caroline ryder's two boxes were packed and corded ready to go next day. she had quietly persisted in her resolution to leave, and mrs. gaunt, though secretly angry, had been just and magnanimous enough to give her a good character.

now female domestics are like the little birds; if that great hawk, their mistress, follows them about, it is a deadly grievance; but if she does not, they follow her about, and pester her with idle questions, and invite the beak and claws of petty tyranny and needless interference.

so the afternoon before she was to leave, caroline ryder came to her mistress's room on some imaginary business. she was not there. ryder, forgetting that it did not matter a straw, proceeded to hunt her everywhere; and at last ran out with only her cap on to "the dame's haunt," and there she was; but not alone: she was walking up and down with brother leonard. their backs were turned, and ryder came up behind them. leonard was pacing gravely, with his head gently drooping as usual. mrs. gaunt was walking elastically, and discoursing with great fire and animation.

ryder glided after, noiseless as a serpent, more bent on wondering and watching now than on overtaking; for inside the house her mistress showed none of this charming vivacity.

presently the keen black eyes observed a "trifle light as air" that made them shine again.

she turned and wound herself amongst the trees, and disappeared. soon after she was in her own room, a changed woman. with glowing cheeks, sparkling eyes, and nimble fingers, she uncorded her boxes, unpacked her things, and placed them neatly in the drawers.

what more had she seen than i have indicated?

only this: mrs. gaunt, in the warmth of discourse, laid her hand lightly for a moment on the priest's elbow: that was nothing, she had laid the same hand on ryder; for, in fact, it was a little womanly way she had, and a hand that settled like down. but this time, as she withdrew it again, that delicate hand seemed to speak; it did not leave leonard's elbow all at once, it glided slowly away, first the palm, then the fingers, and so parted lingeringly.

the other woman saw this subtle touch of womanhood, coupled it with mrs. gaunt's vivacity and the air of happiness that seemed to inspire her whole eloquent person, and formed a harsh judgment on the spot, though she could not see the lady's face.

when mrs. gaunt came in she met her, and addressed her thus: "if you please, ma'am, have you any one coming in my place?"

mrs. gaunt looked her full in the face. "you know i have not," said she, haughtily.

"then, if it is agreeable to you, ma'am, i will stay. to be sure the place is dull; but i have got a good mistress-and——"

"that will do, ryder: a servant has always her own reasons, and never tells them to her mistress. you can stay this time; but the next, you go; and once for all. i am not to be trifled with."

ryder called up a look all submission, and retired with an obeisance. but, once out of sight, she threw off the mask and expanded with insolent triumph. "yes, i have my own reasons," said she. "keep you the priest, and i'll take the man."

from that hour caroline ryder watched her mistress like a lynx, and hovered about her master, and poisoned him slowly with vague insidious hints.

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