This was the family for whose sake Crosbie had jilted Lily Dale!  His single and simple ambition had been that of being an earl’s son-in-law.  To achieve that it had been necessary that he should make himself a villain.  In achieving it he had gone through all manner of dirt and disgrace.  He had married a woman whom he knew he did not love.  He was thinking almost hourly of a girl whom he had loved, whom he did love, but whom he had so injured, that, under no circumstances, could he be allowed to speak to her again.  The attorney there,—­who sat opposite to him, talking about his thousands of pounds with that disgusting assumed solicitude which such men put on, when they know very well what they are doing,—­had made a similar marriage.  But he had known what he was about.  He had got from his marriage all that he had expected.  But what had Crosbie got?

“They’re a bad set,—­a bad set,” said he in his bitterness.

“The men are,” said Gazebee, very comfortably.

“H-m,” said Crosbie.  It was manifest to Gazebee that his friend was expressing a feeling that the women, also, were not all that they should be, but he took no offence, though some portion of the censure might thereby be supposed to attach to his own wife.

“The countess means well,” said Gazebee.  “But she’s had a hard life of it,—­a very hard life.  I’ve heard him call her names that would frighten a coal-heaver.  I have, indeed.  But he’ll die soon, and then she’ll be comfortable.  She has three thousand a year jointure.”

He’ll die soon, and then she’ll be comfortable!  That was one phase of married life.  As Crosbie’s mind dwelt upon the words, he remembered Lily’s promise made in the fields, that she would do everything for him.  He remembered her kisses; the touch of her fingers; the low silvery laughing voice; the feel of her dress as she would press close to him.  After that he reflected whether it would not be well that he too should die, so that Alexandrina might be comfortable.  She and her mother might be very comfortable together, with plenty of money, at Baden-Baden!

The squire at Allington, and Mrs Dale, and Lady Julia De Guest, had been, and still were, uneasy in their minds because no punishment had fallen upon Crosbie,—­no vengeance had overtaken him in consequence of his great sin.  How little did they know about it!  Could he have been prosecuted and put into prison, with hard labour, for twelve months, the punishment would not have been heavier.  He would, in that case, at any rate, have been saved from Lady Alexandrina.

“George and his wife are coming up to town; couldn’t we ask them to come to us for a week or so?” said his wife to him, as soon as they were in the fly together, going home.