He had The Times newspaper in his dressing-bag.  She also had a novel with her.  Would she be offended if he took out the paper and read it?  The miles seemed to pass by very slowly; and there was still another hour down to Folkestone.  He longed for his Times, but resolved at last that he would not read unless she read first.  She also had remembered her novel; but by nature she was more patient than he, and she thought that on such a journey any reading might perhaps be almost improper.  So she sat tranquilly, with her eyes fixed on the netting over her husband’s head.

At last he could stand it no longer, and he dashed off into a conversation, intended to be most affectionate and serious.

“Alexandrina,” he said, and his voice was well-tuned for the tender serious manner, had her ears been alive to such tuning.  “Alexandrina, this is a very important step that you and I have taken to-day.”

“Yes; it is, indeed,” said she.

“I trust we shall succeed in making each other happy.”

“Yes; I hope we shall.”

“If we both think seriously of it, and remember that that is our chief duty, we shall do so.”

“Yes, I suppose we shall.  I only hope we shan’t find the house very cold.  It is so new, and I am so subject to colds in my head.  Amelia says we shall find it very cold; but then she was always against our going there.”

“The house will do very well,” said Crosbie.  And Alexandrina could perceive that there was something of the master in his tone as he spoke.

“I am only telling you what Amelia said,” she replied.

Had Lily been his bride, and had he spoken to her of their future life and mutual duties, how she would have kindled to the theme!  She would have knelt at his feet on the floor of the carriage, and, looking up into his face, would have promised him to do her best,—­her best,—­her very best.  And with what an eagerness of inward resolution would she have determined to keep her promise.  He thought of all this now, but he knew that he ought not to think of it.  Then, for some quarter of an hour, he did take out his newspaper, and she, when she saw him do so, did take out her novel.

He took out his newspaper, but he could not fix his mind upon the politics of the day.  Had he not made a terrible mistake?  Of what use to him in life would be that thing of a woman that sat opposite to him?  Had not a great punishment come upon him, and had he not deserved the punishment?  In truth, a great punishment had come upon him.  It was not only that he had married a woman incapable of understanding the higher duties of married life, but that he himself would have been capable of appreciating the value of a woman who did understand them.  He would have been happy with Lily Dale; and therefore we may surmise that his unhappiness with Lady Alexandrina would be the greater.  There are men who, in marrying such as Lady Alexandrina de Courcy, would get the