My pupils had just retired when a message came that he had returned and desired to see me in the library.  With a heavy heart I went to meet him.  He was not alone.  A tall, passionate-looking woman, with dark hair and restless eyes, sat beside him.  She was richly appareled, and gazed at me with a haughty stare as I entered.

Richard nodded to me a bare recognition and said, “I have sent for you, as I wish you to inform your pupils that they must leave in the morning.  I have other uses for this building.”

At this cool announcement I staggered.  Good God! would he undo me?  What plan had he now in view?  “Remove my pupils!” I exclaimed.

“Yes; do I not speak clearly?  And as you have been plotting and scheming for some time against me, I would advise you to leave, also.  Bristed Hall,” said he sneeringly, “is likely to prove an agreeable shelter to you.”

“I leave!” said I, now fairly awake to the danger.  “What do you mean, sir?”

“I mean,” he replied with diabolical blandness, “that this lady is my wife, and will from this time take charge of this establishment.”

“Richard Bristed, you cannot, dare not make that assertion!  I am your wife, though I acknowledge it with shame and sorrow.  He has misled you, madam,” said I, turning to the lady.  “You are mistaken if you suppose I shall abandon my rights.”

“Ha, ha!” he laughed, “she knows all about you.  You cannot enlighten her, so you had better hasten and pack your trunks.”

“I shall not leave, sir; I shall defend my position here.  I am a woman, and you shall not sully my fair name,” said I, maddened by his manner.  “Your brother will help me—­the law will aid me.  Here I remain!”

“You will?” said he; “we will see.  This house is mine,” and he drew out his pistol with which to frighten me.

“Richard,” said I, hoping to restore him to calmness, “put up that pistol.  You cannot, dare not use it.”

“Dare not!” he exclaimed, coming up to me, his hot breath smelling of wine; “I will show you if I dare not!”

I was alarmed as he suddenly cocked the weapon.  What might he not do in his drunken excitement?

“She is a coward, Dick,” said the lady.  “Don’t trouble yourself about her,” and then turning to me and stamping her foot, “How dare you say you are his wife!” she exclaimed.  “Go out from here!”

I shook from head to foot, but did not leave.

“Come, Dick, give me the pistol,” said the lady; “You don’t know what you might do with it.”

“Don’t meddle with me,” said he, as she attempted to wrest it from his grasp.  “Why does that girl stand glowering at me?”

“O Richard,” I sobbed, “my heart is ready to burst!  Don’t act so; remember Herbert!”

“Remember Herbert!” he muttered; “I do remember him.  You killed him with your pranks, and now you would accuse me.  Go, leave my house, or I will compel you.”