Netherloup, for better for worse, for richer for
poorer, until death should them part.

There is something very solemn about a
marriage, whether of love, of convenience, or of
ambition—this came, I suppose, under the last head
—but none of the young bridesmaids, when they
looked at Dulcy's white face and desperate
expression, saw anything to covet in the position she
had won. George Milner was not present, he was
still in Switzerland, but his mother, as one of
the oldest friends of the family, was there in
great pomp and splendour. The old lady said
to more persons than one during the course of
the day, that, ill as Dulcy had used her George,
she was really sorry for her; but if a girl would
marry for money rather than love, she deserved
to look and feel wretched at least on her
wedding-day.

Mrs. Digby remained at Avenham triumphant,
while Sir John and his new wife went
to Paris, and overran Italy; in short,
performed the grand foreign bridal tour in the most
orthodox way. In March they returned to
England, and came down straight to Netherloup
Hall. Then began the series of calls of ceremony,
and there were a hundred and one opinions
as to how Lady Seamer looked, and a thousand
and one speculations as to whether or no she
was happy. But her mother was serene and
satisfied, and confidently communicated to all
her intimates that Sir John made the very best
husband in the world; and people agreed to
believe that Dulcy Digby's bargain had turned out
better than might have been expected. When the
London season arrived, Lady Seamer of Netherloup
was generally allowed to be the flower of
it, and George Milner, regarding her with wonder
and admiration, said to himself what a
consummate actress she was, and questioned whether
the organisation of the female sex was really
provided with a heart, or only with a muscle of a
plastic and a non-sensitive nature, which could
adapt itself to every fate as readily as hers had
done.

Lady Seamer had pride—she had also discretion,
and she had that faculty, more peculiarly
developed amongst women, of concealing what
she would have been ashamed to make public,
and of enduring in silence, and with a certain
dignity, the private pangs which she could not
get rid of. Sir John was sufficiently courteous
to her in company, and he could not be exactly
said to use her roughly at home; but his docility
and affection as a husband did not fulfil the
professions of his courting days. Like most weak
persons, he was suspicious, and suspicion
developed in him a cunning watchfulness which soon
discovered the signs of his wife's indifference
to himself, and exaggerated them into a preference
for somebody else.

He did not proclaim his doubts in so many
words, but he put them into prompt action. It
had been arranged that when the London season
in town closed they should go abroad for a few
months, and Lady Seamer had already settled
points of meeting with other wandering friends,
when Sir John one night suddenly informed her
that on the morrow she must prepare to go
down to Netherloup; he was tired of London,
and he was not in the humour for travelling.

Lady Seamer ventured to ask why? He told
her that it was his will, and that was enough.
She acquiesced with a beautiful meekness, and it
must have been a terrible fear that had brought
Dulcy Digby to that point of submission, but
she said afterwards, in confidence to her mother,
"I dare not oppose him; it would be more
than my life is worth ever to say him nay;
when he is in one of his passions he is capable
of killing me, and I believe he would be no
more responsible for it than a savage animal.
O mother! the days and nights of horrible,
sickening terrors I went through last winter I
can never tell you! I have wished myself dead
many and many a time."

This was what she had exchanged the chance
of love and happiness with George Milner
for! She had fine houses, and fine equipages,
costly jewels, and many friends; but a
husband whom she could only compare to a
savage animal, and with whom she existed
in terror of her life. Fear had rendered her
very tractable; observing persons noticed how
she deferred to Sir John's wishes, consulted
his opinions, and watched his eye if it might
be possible for her to forestal a desire
before it was expressed; and thoughtful persons
said she was much to be pitied, and her mother
was much to be blamed, and they hoped no harm
would come of it, but that really they should
not at all like to be in Lady Seamer's place, even
for twice the pomp and splendour for which she
had sacrificed herself.

During the third week in June, Sir John
and Lady Seamer went down thus unexpectedly
to Netherloup; Mrs. Digby, at the same
time, returning to her house at Avenham.
It was a country neighbourhood, where the
gentry had, for the most part, only moderate
means, and therefore lived at home nearly all the
year round. The arrival of the Seamers at
Netherloup was, therefore, a gratification, and
while the summer lasted, they were made the
object and excuse for strawberry-parties, and
pic-nics, and water-parties without end. Lady
Seamer thankfully encouraged these moderate
dissipations as varying the monotony of her
life, and keeping Sir John in good humour; the
last depending now on a continuous effort which
it was most wearisome and irksome for her to
have to make alone. People began to whisper
that Lady Seamer led a life far from enviable
with " that surly brute" her husband, and when
George Milner came home again in October,
his mother had twenty ugly stories to tell
him of what was said to be going on at Netherloup.

But it was no concern of George's any more;
Dulcy had chosen her own lot and must abide by
it. He was a barrister, and, perhaps, the wrongs
of miserable wives were no secret to him; he was
very sorry, of course, but he had nothing more
to say. Dulcy's brothers were angry with their
mother for having encouraged the match, but