Did ye ask me to take wine, Mr. Wilfrud? I'll be cryin', else, as a
widde should, ye know!"

Frequent administrations of wine arrested the tears of Mrs. Chump, until
it is possible that the fulness of many a checked flow caused her to
redden and talk slightly at random. At the first mention of their
father's name, the ladies went out from the room. It was foolish, for
they might have watched the effect of certain vinous innuendoes addressed
to Wilfrid's apprehensiveness; but they were weakened and humbled, and
everything they did was foolish. From the fact that they offended their
keen critical taste, moreover, they were targets to the shaft that wounds
more fatally than all. No ridicule knocks the strength out of us so
thoroughly as our own.

Whether or not he guessed their condition favourable for his plans,
Wilfrid did not give them time to call back their scattered powers. At
the hour of eleven he sent for Arabella to come to him in the library.
The council upstairs permitted Arabella to go, on the understanding that
she was prepared for hostilities, and ready to tear the mask from
Wilfrid's face.

He commenced, without a shadow of circumlocution, and in a matter-of-fact
way, as if all respect for the peculiar genius of the house of Pole had
vanished: "I sent for you to talk a word or two about this woman, who, I
see, troubles you a little. I'm sorry she's in the house."

"Indeed!" said Arabella.

"I'm sorry she's in the house, not for my sake, but for yours, since the
proximity does not seem to... I needn't explain. It comes of your