"Yes; I have promised to lend him some
money."

"What?" He was not indifferent now.
''You are jesting! Lend Mr. Frost money!''

"I, too, was surprised at his request."

"What was it? How was it? Oh!"
exclaimed Cesare, struck by a sudden idea,
"perhaps he had forgotten his pocket-book,
and wanted a few pounds. Were you able
to give them to him?"

"Then you would not have objected to
my doing so?"

"In that case, no."

"I am glad of that," said Veronica, ignoring
the words in italics, "because I promised
to assist him. It is a large sum he wants.
But we can afford it, I suppose. I never
enter into the details of our fortune, but I
make no doubt that it will not be difficult
for us. In serving him, I shall be indirectly
serving others in whom I am
interested. I do not exactly understand how;
but if you were to ask him he might tell
you more explicitly. I was greatly struck
by the change in Mr. Frost's appearance.
He seems to have been harassed nearly to
death. But if you had seen the light that
came into his face when I said 'Yes'! It
gave me quite a new sensation. I promised
to lend him two thousand pounds!"

Cesare had sat silent, listening to his wife
with growing uneasiness in his face. At
these last words he jumped up and uttered
a loud ejaculation. But in the next instant
he burst into a mocking laugh:

"What a fool I am! You made me believe
you were in earnest."

But even as he said the words his angry
face belied them.

"I am in earnest, Cesare."

For all reply he laughed again, and began
to walk up and down the room, switching
his riding-whip right and left with a sharp,
vicious motion.

Veronica proceeded to recapitulate Mr.
Frost's words as well as she could remember
them. She spoke earnestly and eagerly. At
length, finding that she made no impression
on her husband, she began to lose patience.
"It would be somewhat less grossly ill-bred
and discourteous," she said, "if you were to
favour me with your objections, if you do
object, instead of sneering and strutting in
that intolerable manner."

"My objections are that the whole idea is
contrary to common sense. Tu sei pazza—
you are mad, mia cara."

"How contrary to common sense? I do
not think it at all contrary to common
sense."

"You do not see, for example, that this
man must be at the last extremity before he
would attempt such a desperate forlorn hope
as this? That he must be as good as ruined
already? Tu sei pazza!"

"But if we could save him and others?"

"Pazza, pazza, pazza!"

"Cesare, I gave him my promise."

"You must have been bewitched, or—
dreaming when you gave it," he answered
with a singular look.

"After all, the money is mine, and I
choose to claim the disposal of it," she cried,
her long-repressed resentment blazing out
on her cheeks and in her eyes.

Cesare wheeled sharp round in his walk,
and looked at her.

"Do you know," he said, slowly, "I
begin to be afraid that you really are not
in possession of your senses."

"I am in full possession of my senses. I
despise your sneer. I despise you; yes, I
despise you! I will not forfeit my word
to please your grudging, petty meanness!
The money is mine, mine, I tell you.
And I will have some share in the disposal
of it."

Then he let the demon of rage take full
possession of him. From between his
clenched teeth he hissed out such words as
speedily made her quail and shudder and
sink down, burying her head among the
cushions of the couch. He had learnt much
during the past three months, both of her
position and his own in the eyes of the
world; and he spared her no detail of his
knowledge. He knew his privileges; he
knew that there was nothing in all the
world which she could call her own; and
he also knew that his name and title were
looked on as more than equivalent for the
surrender of herself and all she possessed.
He had lately had increasing reason to be
displeased with her. His new friends did
not love her. They resented her pride, and
ridiculed her pretensions. A hundred taunts
which, but for the accidental firing of the
long train of discontents, and spites, and
vexations, might have remained for ever
unspoken, leaped from his tongue. His
passion grew with speech, as a smouldering
fire rushes into flame at the contact of the
outer air. He turned and twisted the
elastic riding-whip ferociously in his hands
as though it were a living thing that he
took pleasure in torturing. And at length,
approaching nearer and nearer to Veronica
as she cowered on the sofa, bending closer
and closer over her, and hissing his fierce
invectives into her ear, he suddenly drew