“And, vanquish’d, quit victoriously the field.”

Griselda flung the book from her as her husband entered the room.

“You have had an answer, madam, from your friend, Mrs. Nettleby, I perceive,” said he, calmly.

“I have, sir. Family reasons prevent her from receiving me at present; therefore I have determined upon going to Weymouth; where, indeed, I always wished to spend this summer.”

Mr. Bolingbroke evinced no surprise, and made not the slightest opposition. Mrs. Bolingbroke was so much vexed, that she could scarcely command her countenance: she bit her lip violently.

“With respect to any arrangements that are to be made, I am to understand that you wish me to address myself to Mr. J. Nettleby,” said her husband.

“No, to myself, if you please; I am prepared to listen, sir, to whatever you may have to propose.”

“These things are always settled best in writing,” replied Mr. Bolingbroke. “Be so obliging as to leave me your direction, and you shall hear from me, or from Mrs. Granby, in a few days.”

Mrs. Bolingbroke hastily wrote a direction upon a card, and put it into her husband’s hand, with as much unconcern as she could maintain. Mr. Bolingbroke continued, precisely in the same tone: “If you have any thing to suggest, that may contribute to your future convenience, madam, you will be so good as to leave a memorandum with me, to which I shall attend.”

He placed a sheet of paper before Mrs. Bolingbroke, and put a pen into her hand. She made an effort to write, but her hand trembled so that she could not form a letter. Her husband took up Saint Lambert, and read, or seemed to read. —“Open the window, Mr. Bolingbroke,” said she. He obeyed, but did not, as formerly, “hang over her enamoured.” He had been so often duped by her fainting-fits and hysterics, that now, when she suffered in earnest, he suspected her of artifice. He took up his book again, and marked a page with his pencil. She wrote a line with a hurried hand, then starting up, flung her pen from her, and exclaimed —“I need not, will not write; I have no request to make to you, Mr. Bolingbroke; do what you will; I have no wishes, no wish upon eart............