Lady Clyde is injured; but — follow my thought
here!— she is, on that very account (I say it
with shame), the cause of irritation while she
remains under her husband's roof. No other
house can receive her with propriety, but yours.
I invite you to open it!"

Cool. Here was a matrimonial hailstorm
pouring in the South of England; and I was
invited, by a man with fever in every fold of his
coat, to come out from the North of England, and
take my share of the pelting. I tried to put the
point forcibly, just as I have put it here. The
Count deliberately lowered one of his horrid
fingers; kept the other up; and went on rode —
over me, as it were, without even the common
coachmanlike attention of crying "Hi!" before he
knocked me down.

"Follow my thought once more, if you
please," he resumed. "My first object you
have heard. My second object in coming to
this house is to do what Miss Halcombe's
illness has prevented her from doing for herself.
My large experience is consulted on all difficult
matters at Blackwater Park; and my friendly
advice was requested on the interesting subject
of your letter to Miss Halcombe. I understood
at once — for my sympathies are your sympathies
— why you wished to see her here, before you
pledged yourself to inviting Lady Glyde. You are
most right, sir, in hesitating to receive the
wife, until you are quite certain that the husband
will not exert his authority to reclaim her. I
agree to that. I also agree that such delicate
explanations as this difficulty involves, are not
explanations which can be properly disposed of
by writing only. My presence here (to my own
great inconvenience) is the proof that I speak
sincerely. As for the explanations themselves,
I— Fosco— I who know Sir Percival much
better than Miss Halcombe knows him, affirm
to you, on my honour and my word, that
he will not come near this house, or attempt
to communicate with this house, while his
wife is living in it. His affairs are embarrassed.
Offer him his freedom, by means of the
absence of Lady Glyde. I promise you he will
take his freedom, and go back to the Continent,
at the earliest moment when he can get away.
Is this clear to you as crystal? Yes, it is. Have you
questions to address to me? Be it so; I am here to
answer. Ask, Mr. Fairlie — oblige me by asking, to
your heart's content."

He had said so much already in spite of me;
and he looked so dreadfully capable of saying a
great deal more, also in spite of me, that I
declined his amiable invitation, in pure self-defence.

"Many thanks," I replied. "I am sinking
fast. In my state of health, I must take things
for granted. Allow me to do so, on this occasion.
We quite understand each other. Yes.
Much obliged, I am sure, for your kind interference.
If I ever get better, and ever have a
second opportunity of improving our acquaintance ——"

He got up. I thought he was going. No.
More talk; more time for the development of infectious
influences — in my room, too; remember that,
in my room!

"One moment, yet," he said; "one moment,
before I take my leave. I ask permission, at
parting, to impress on you an urgent necessity.
It, is this, sir! You must not think of waiting
till Miss Halcombe recovers, before you receive
Lady Glyde. Miss Halcombe has the attendance
of the doctor, of the housekeeper at Blackwater
Park, and of an experienced nurse as well —
three persons for whose capacity and devotion
I answer with my life. I tell you that. I tell
you, also, that the anxiety and alarm of her
sister's illness has already affected the health
and spirits of Lady Glyde, and has made her
totally unfit to be of use in the sick-room. Her
position with her husband grows more and more
deplorable and dangerous, every day. If you
leave her any longer at Blackwater Park, you
do nothing whatever to hasten her sister's
recovery, and, at the same time, you risk the
public scandal, which you, and I, and all of us,
are bound, in the sacred interests of the Family,
to avoid. With all my soul, I advise you to
remove the serious responsibility of delay from
your own shoulders, by writing to Lady Glyde
to come here at once. Do your affectionate,
your honourable, your inevitable duty; and,
whatever happens in the future, no one can lay
the blame on you. I speak from my large experience;
I offer my friendly advice. Is it accepted— Yes, or No?"

I looked at him— merely looked at him— with
my sense of his amazing assurance, and my
dawning resolution to ring for Louis, and have
him shown out of the room, expressed in every
line of my face. It is perfectly incredible, but
quite true, that my face did not appear to produce
the slightest impression on him. Born without
nerves— evidently, born without nerves!

"You hesitate?" he said. "Mr. Fairlie! I
understand that hesitation. You object— see,
sir, how my sympathies look straight down into
your thoughts!— you object that Lady Glyde is
not in health and not in spirits to take the long
journey, from Hampshire to this place, by herself.
Her own maid is removed from her, as you
know; and, of other servants fit to travel with
her, from one end of England to another, there
are none at Blackwater Park. You object, again,
that she cannot comfortably stop and rest in
London, on her way here, because she cannot
comfortably go alone to a public hotel where she
is a total stranger. In one breath, I grant both
objections— in another breath, I remove them.
Follow me, if you please, for the last time. It
was my intention, when I returned to England
with Sir Percival, to settle myself in the
neighbourhood of London. That purpose has just
been happily accomplished. I have taken, for
six months, a little furnished house, in the
quarter called St. John's Wood. Be so obliging
as to keep this fact in your mind; and observe
the programme I now propose. Lady Glyde
travels to London (a short journey)— I myself
meet her at the station— I take her to rest and
sleep at my house, which is also the house of her