Meanwhile, Sir Philip himself, in a white heat of restrained anger, arrived at Winsleigh House, and asked to see Lord Winsleigh immediately. Briggs, who opened the door to him, was a little startled at his haggard face and blazing eyes, even though he knew, through Britta, all about the sorrow that had befallen him. Briggs was not surprised at Lady Errington's departure,--that portion of his "duty" which consisted in listening at doors, had greatly enlightened him on many points,--all, save one--the reported connection between Sir Philip and Violet Vere. This seemed to be really true according to all appearances.

"Which it puzzles me," soliloquized the owner of the shapely calves. "It do, indeed. Yet I feels very much for Sir Philip,--I said to Flopsie this morning--'Flopsie, I feels for 'im!' Yes,--I used them very words. Only, of course, he shouldn't 'ave gone with Vi. She's a fine woman certainly--but skittish--d--d skittish! I've allus made it a rule myself to avoid 'er on principle. Lor! if I'd kep' company with 'er and the likes of 'er I shouldn't be the man I am!" And he smiled complacently.

Lord Winsleigh, who was in his library as usual, occupied with his duties as tutor to his son Ernest, rose to receive Sir Philip with an air of more than his usual gravity.

"I was about to write to you, Errington," he began, and then stopped short, touched by the utter misery expressed in Philip's face. He addressed Ernest with a sort of nervous haste.

"Run away, my boy, to your own room. I'll send for you again presently."

Ernest obeyed. "Now," said Lord Winsleigh, as soon as the lad disappeared, "tell me everything, Errington. Is it true that your wife has left you?"

"Left me!" and Philip's eyes flashed with passionate anger. "No Winsleigh!--she's been driven away from me by the vilest and most heartless cruelty. She's been made to believe a scandalous and abominable lie against me--and she's gone! I--I--by Jove! I hardly like to say it to your face--but--"

"I understand!" a curious flicker of a smile shadowed rather than brightened Lord Winsleigh's stern features. "Pray speak quite plainly! Lady Winsleigh is to blame? I am not at all surprised!"

Errington gave him a rapid glance of wonder. He had always fancied Winsleigh to be a studious, rather dull sort of man, absorbed in books and the education of his son,--a man, more than half blind to everything that went on around him--and, moreover, one who deliberately shut his eyes to the frivolous coquetry of his wife,--and though he liked him fairly well, there had been a sort of vague contempt mingled with his liking. Now a new light was suddenly thrown on his character--there was something in his look, his manner, his very tone of voice,--which proved to Errington that there was a deep and forcible side to his nature of which his closest friends had never dreamed--and he was somewhat taken aback by the discovery. Seeing that he still hesitated, Winsleigh laid a hand encouragingly on his shoulder and said-"I repeat--I'm not at all surprised! Nothing that Lady Winsleigh might do would cause me the slightest astonishment. She has long ceased to be my wife, except in name,--that she still bears that name and holds the position she has in the world is simply--for my son's sake! I do not wish,"--his voice quivered slightly--"I do not wish the boy to despise his mother. It's always a bad beginning for a young man's life. I want to avoid it for Ernest, if possible,--regardless of any personal sacrifice." He paused a moment--then resumed. "Now, speak out, Errington, and plainly,--for if mischief has been done and I can repair it in any way, you may be sure I will."




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