172 MADEMOISELLE ANGELA.

father died. Reynolds, who had never communicated
his own and his sister's marriage to Williams, wrote
to him now with the news of his father’s death ; the
letter, however, reached Florence exactly two days
after the Williams's had left there for England—why
we shall see.

The Williams’s had now been twelve months in
Florence. He continued as melancholy as ever ; at
times he spoke of returning to England alone, but
of that his wife would not hear. She urged him to
consult physicians, but he, who knew too well what
was his malady, would take no physician’s advice.
His wife now began to suspect some concealed grief
or other, some sorrow of which he spared her the
knowledge from affection and tenderness. ‘* Oh, how
you mistake me, Edward,” she said, “if you think
I cannot share in your grief!” Her affection pained
him deeply—he believed that there was a grief which
she could not bear—the grief of his falsehood and
deceit. He avoided his wife as much as possible,
and spent his time alone. All his passion for Made-
moiselle Angela was gone; his wife was in his eyes a
superior being, and he coveted only her love, and
could he have felt that he deserved her love, he would
have been the happiest of men ; but he had deceived
her, and in deceiving her, had compelled himself to
the cruellest neglect of his father and sister. These
thoughts never left him.

One day his wife drove out with the nurse and
child ; they went out for the day, and according to
Mrs. Williams's custom, took with them provisions
for every possible want. One of the pockets of the
carriage was stuffed with biscuits for the child ; the