voice, and a troubled spirit, dwelt upon the unhappiness of her lot, and
the cruelty of her fortunes. Her husband's indifference was the
sorrowful theme of her lamentations; and she ended by asking Mr. Vivian
Grey's advice, as to the line of conduct which she should pursue with
regard to him; first duly informing Vivian that this was the only time
and he the only person to whom this subject had been ever mentioned.

"And why should I mention it here, and to whom? The Marquess is the best
of men, but--" and here she looked up in Vivian's face, and spoke
volumes; "and the Marchioness is the most amiable of women: at least, I
suppose her lap-dog thinks so."

The advice of Vivian was concise. He sent the husband to the devil in
two seconds, and insisted upon the wife's not thinking of him for
another moment; and then the lady dried her eyes, and promised to do
her best.

"And now," said Mrs. Felix Lorraine, "I must talk about your own
affairs. I think your plan excellent."

"Plan, madam!"

"Yes, plan, sir! the Marquess has told me all. I have no head for
politics, Mr. Grey; but if I cannot assist you in managing the nation, I
perhaps may in managing the family, and my services are at your command.
Believe me, you will have enough to do: there, I pledge you my troth. Do
you think it a pretty hand?"

Vivian did think it a very pretty hand, and he performed due courtesies
in a becoming style.