“Thou thinkest I would disgrace him,” said the Countess; “nay, let go my arm, I can walk without aid and work without counsel.”

“Be not angry with me, lady,” said Janet meekly, “and let me still support you; the road is rough, and you are little accustomed to walk in darkness.”

“If you deem me not so mean as may disgrace my husband,” said the Countess, in the same resentful tone, “you suppose my Lord of Leicester capable of abetting, perhaps of giving aim and authority to, the base proceedings of your father and Varney, whose errand I will do to the good Earl.”

“For God’s sake, madam, spare my father in your report,” said Janet; “let my services, however poor, be some atonement for his errors!”

“I were most unjust, dearest Janet, were it otherwise,” said the Countess, resuming at once the fondness and confidence of her manner towards her faithful attendant, “No, Janet, not a word of mine shall do your father prejudice.  But thou seest, my love, I have no desire but to throw my self on my husband’s protection.  I have left the abode he assigned for me, because of the villainy of the persons by whom I was surrounded; but I will disobey his commands in no other particular.  I will appeal to him alone—­I will be protected by him alone; to no other, than at his pleasure, have I or will I communicate the secret union which combines our hearts and our destinies.  I will see him, and receive from his own lips the directions for my future conduct.  Do not argue against my resolution, Janet; you will only confirm me in it.  And to own the truth, I am resolved to know my fate at once, and from my husband’s own mouth; and to seek him at Kenilworth is the surest way to attain my purpose.”

While Janet hastily revolved in her mind the difficulties and uncertainties attendant on the unfortunate lady’s situation, she was inclined to alter her first opinion, and to think, upon the whole, that since the Countess had withdrawn herself from the retreat in which she had been placed by her husband, it was her first duty to repair to his presence, and possess him with the reasons for such conduct.  She knew what importance the Earl attached to the concealment of their marriage, and could not but own, that by taking any step to make it public without his permission, the Countess would incur, in a high degree, the indignation of her husband.  If she retired to her father’s house without an explicit avowal of her rank, her situation was likely greatly to prejudice her character; and if she made such an avowal, it might occasion an irreconcilable breach with her husband.  At Kenilworth, again, she might plead her cause with her husband himself, whom Janet, though distrusting him more than the Countess did, believed incapable of being accessory to the base and desperate means which his dependants, from whose power the lady was now escaping, might resort to, in order to stifle her complaints of the treatment she had received at their hands.  But at the worst,