a month had nearly elapsed since the montfort ball; the season was over and the session was nearly finished. the pressure of parliamentary life for those in office is extreme during this last month, yet endymion would have contrived, were it only for a day, to have visited his sister, had lady roehampton much encouraged his appearance. strange as it seemed to him, she did not, but, on the contrary, always assumed that the prorogation of parliament would alone bring them together again. when he proposed on one occasion to come down for four-and-twenty hours, she absolutely, though with much affection, adjourned the fulfilment of the offer. it seemed that she was not yet quite settled.

lady montfort lingered in london even after goodwood. she was rather embarrassed, as she told endymion, about her future plans. lord montfort was at princedown, where she wished to join him, but he did not respond to her wishes; on the contrary, while announcing that he was indisposed, and meant to remain at princedown for the summer, he suggested that she should avail herself of the opportunity, and pay a long visit to her family in the north. “i know what he means,” she observed; “he wants the world to believe that we are separated. he cannot repudiate me—he is too great a gentleman to do anything coarsely unjust; but he thinks, by tact and indirect means, he may achieve our virtual separation. he has had this purpose for years, i believe now ever since our marriage, but hitherto i have baffled him. i ought to be with him; i really believe he is indisposed, his face has become so pale of late; but were i to persist in going to princedown i should only drive him away. he would go off into the night without leaving his address, and something would happen—dreadful or absurd. what i had best do, i think, is this. you are going at last to pay your visit to your sister; i will write to my lord and tell him that as he does not wish me to go to princedown, i propose to go to montfort castle. when the flag is flying at montfort, i can pay a visit of any length to my family. it will only be a neighbouring visit from montfort to them; perhaps, too, they might return it. at any rate, then they cannot say my lord and i are separated. we need not live under the same roof, but so long as i live under his roof the world considers us united. it is a pity to have to scheme in this manner, and rather degrading, particularly when one might be so happy with him. but you know, my dear endymion, all about our affairs. your friend is not a very happy woman, and if not a very unhappy one, it is owing much to your dear friendship, and a little to my own spirit which keeps me up under what is frequent and sometimes bitter mortification. and now adieu! i suppose you cannot be away less than a week. probably on your return you will find me here. i cannot go to montfort without his permission. but he will give it. i observe that he will always do anything to gain his immediate object. his immediate object is, that i shall not go to princedown, and so he will agree that i shall go to montfort.”

for the first time in his life, endymion felt some constraint in the presence of myra. there was something changed in her manner. no diminution of affection, for she threw her arms around him and pressed him to her heart; and then she looked at him anxiously, even sadly, and kissed both his eyes, and then she remained for some moments in silence with her face hid on his shoulder. never since the loss of lord roehampton had she seemed so subdued.

“it is a long separation,” she at length said, with a voice and smile equally faint, “and you must be a little wearied with your travelling. come and refresh yourself, and then i will show you my boudoir i have made here; rather pretty, out of nothing. and then we will sit down and have a long talk together, for i have much to tell you, and i want your advice.”

“she is going to marry sidney wilton,” thought endymion; “that is clear.”

the boudoir was really pretty, “made out of nothing;” a gay chintz, some shelves of beautiful books, some fanciful chairs, and a portrait of lord roehampton.

it was a long interview, very long, and if one could judge by the countenance of endymion, when he quitted the boudoir and hastened to his room, of grave import. sometimes his face was pale, sometimes scarlet; the changes were rapid, but the expression was agitated rather than one of gratification.

he sent instantly for his servant, and then penned this telegram to lady montfort: “my visit here will be short. i am to see you immediately. nothing must prevent your being at home when i call tomorrow, about four o’clock. most, most important.”