That thrust too went home.  My husband looked at me with flashing eyes and then said: 

“As I thought!  You’ve been sent for to help my wife to make a great to-do of her imaginary grievances.  You’re to stay in the house too, and before long we’ll have you setting up as master here and giving orders to my servants!  But not if I know it! . . .  Your reverence, if you have any respect for your penitent, you’ll please be good enough to leave my wife to my protection.”

I saw that Father Dan had to gulp down his gathering anger, but he only said: 

“Say no more, my lord.  No true priest ever comes between a man and the wife whom God has given him.  It’s his business to unite people, not to put them apart.  As for this dear child, I have loved her since she was an infant in arms, and never so much as at the present speaking, so I don’t need to learn my duty from one who appears to care no more for her than for the rind of a lemon.  I’ll go, sir,” said the old man, drawing himself up like a wounded lion, “but it’s not to your protection I leave her—­it’s to that of God’s blessed and holy love and will.”

My husband had gone before the last words were spoken, but I think they must have followed him as he went lunging down the stairs.

During this humiliating scene a hot flush of shame had come to my cheeks and I wanted to tell Father Dan not to let it grieve him, but I could do nothing but stoop and kiss his hand.

Meantime two or three of the servants had gathered on the landing at the sound of my husband’s voice, and among them was the flinty housekeeper holding the Father’s little bag, and she gave it back to him as he passed her.

Then, all being over, the woman came into my room, with an expression of victorious mischief in her eyes and said: 

“Your ladyship had better have listened to them as knows, you see.”

I was too benumbed by that cruel stroke to reply, but Price said enough for both of us.

“If them as knows,” she said, “don’t get out of this room inside two seconds they’ll get their ugly faces slapped.”

* * * * *

I thought I had reached the end of my power of endurance, and that night, before going to bed, while my maid was taking down my hair, and I was thinking of Martin and asking myself if I should put up with my husband’s brutalities any longer, I heard her say: 

“If I were a lady married to the wrong man, I’d have the right one if I had to go through the divorce court for him.”

Now that was so exactly the thought that was running riot in my own tormented mind, that I flew at her like a wild cat, asking her how she dared to say anything so abominably wicked, and telling her to take her notice there and then.

But hardly had she left the room, when my heart was in my mouth again, and I was trembling with fear lest she should take me at my word and then the last of my friends would be gone.