“He is not your husband,” said the lawyer, quietly; “and this man is your husband, and things have come to my knowledge lately which it would be imprudent at present to disclose either to him or you; but we are old friends.  You can not doubt that I have your interest at heart.”

“No, I don’t doubt that,” said Lucy, hastily, and held out her hand to him.

“Well, then,” said he, “be persuaded and meet the man.”

“No, I will not do that,” said she.  “I am not a good woman, I know; but it is not for want of the wish.  I will not play double any more.”  And from that nothing he could say could move her.

The lawyer returned to his place, and when Monckton called next day he told him he was sorry to say Mr. Braham was ill and in trouble, and the lady couldn’t meet him.  She would make any reasonable sacrifice for his convenience except that.

“And I,” said Monckton, “insist upon that, and nothing else.”

The lawyer endeavored to soften him, and hinted that he would advance money himself sooner than his client should be tormented.

But Monckton was inflexible.  He said, “It is about a matter that she can not communicate to you, nor can I. However, I am obliged to you for your information.  She won’t leave her stock-broker, eh?  Well, then I know where to find her;” and he took up his hat to go.

“No, pray don’t do that,” said Mr. Middleton, earnestly.  “Let me try her again.  She has had time to sleep over it.”

“Try her,” said Monckton, sternly, “and if you are her friend, take her husband’s side in this one thing; it’s the last time I shall trouble her.”

“I am her friend,” said the lawyer.  “And if you must know, I rather wish her to meet you and get it over.  Will you come here again at five o’clock?”

“All right,” said Monckton.

Monckton was struck with lawyer Middleton’s manner, and went away puzzling over it.

“What’s his little game, I wonder?” said he.

The lawyer went post-haste to his client’s house.  He found her in tears.  She handed him an open letter.

Braham was utterly ruined, and besides that had done something or other he did not care to name; he was off to America, leaving her what money she could find in the house and the furniture, which he advised her to sell at once before others claimed it; in short, the man was wild with fear, and at present thought but little of anybody but himself.

Then the lawyer set himself to comfort her as well as he could, and renewed his request that she would give Monckton a meeting.

“Yes,” said she, wearily—­“it is no use trying to resist him; he can come here.”

The lawyer demurred to that.  “No,” said he, “keep your own counsel, don’t let him know you are deserted and ruined; make a favor of coming, but come:  and a word in your ear—­he can do more for you than Braham can, or will ever do again.  So don’t you thwart him if you can help.”