"You can enter society under the auspices of your husband's mother, the
very best chaperone you could possibly have," said the lady coldly.

"I know that, mamma."

"Then you will come with us?"

"Excuse me, madam; indeed I am not thankless of your thought of me. But
I cannot go; for even if I had the spirits to sustain the role of a
woman of fashion in the gay capital this winter, I feel that in doing so
I should still further displease and alienate my husband. No, I must
remain here in retirement, doing what good I can, and hoping and praying
for his return," sighed Berenice.

Mrs. Brudenell hastily rose from her seat. She was not accustomed to
opposition; she was too proud to plead further; and she was very much
displeased with Berenice for disappointing her cherished plan of
introducing her daughter, the Countess of Hurstmonceux, to the circles
of Washington.

"The first dinner bell has rung some time ago, my dear. I will not
detain you longer. Myself and daughters leave for town on Saturday."

Berenice bowed gently, and went upstairs to change her dress for dinner.

On Saturday, according to programme, Mrs. Brudenell and her daughters
went to town, traveling in their capacious family carriage, and Berenice
was left alone. Yes, she was left alone to a solitude of heart and home
difficult to be understood by beloved and happy wives and mothers. The