After this event Marston became excited and restless.  He scarcely ate or slept, and his health seemed now as much scattered as his spirits had been before.  One day he glided into the room in which, as we have said, it was Mrs. Marston’s habit frequently to sit alone.  His wife was there, and, as he entered, she uttered an exclamation of doubtful joy and surprise.  He sate down near her in silence, and for some time looked gloomily on the ground.  She did not care to question him, and anxiously waited until he should open the conversation.  At length he raised his eyes, and, looking full at her, asked abruptly—­“Well, what about mademoiselle?”

Mrs. Marston was embarrassed, and hesitated.

“I told you what I wished with respect to that young lady some time ago, and commissioned you to acquaint her with my pleasure; and yet I find her still here, and apparently as much established as ever.”

Again Mrs. Marston hesitated.  She scarcely knew how to confess to him that she had not conveyed his message.

“Don’t suppose, Gertrude, that I wish to find fault.  I merely wanted to know whether you had told Mademoiselle de Barras that we were agreed as to the necessity or expediency, or what you please, of dispensing henceforward with her services, I perceive by your manner that you have not done so.  I have no doubt your motive was a kind one, but my decision remains unaltered; and I now assure you again that I wish you to speak to her; I wish you explicitly to let her know my wishes and yours.”

“Not mine, Richard,” she answered faintly.

“Well, mine, then,” he replied, roughly; “we shan’t quarrel about that.”

“And when—­how soon—­do you wish me to speak to her on this, to both of us, most painful subject?” asked she, with a sigh.

“Today—­this hour—­this minute, if you can; in short the sooner the better,” he replied, rising.  “I see no reason for holding it back any longer.  I am sorry my wishes were not complied with immediately.  Pray, let there be no further hesitation or delay.  I shall expect to learn this evening that all is arranged.”

Marston having thus spoken, left her abruptly, went down to his study with a swift step, shut himself in, and throwing himself into a great chair, gave a loose to his agitation, which was extreme.

Meanwhile Mrs. Marston had sent for Mademoiselle de Barras, anxious to get through her painful task as speedily as possible.  The fair French girl quickly presented herself.

“Sit down, mademoiselle,” said Mrs. Marston, taking her hand kindly, and drawing her to the prie-dieu chair beside herself.