Ravenshoe. By Henry Kingsley.

176 RAVENSHOE.
"You have improved upon my text, Lord Ascot," said Charles.
"It is like your kind-heartedness. The mouse may offer to help
the lion, my lord; and, although the lion may know how little
likely it is that he should require help, yet he may take it as a
sign of good-will on the part of the poor mouse. Now, good by,
my lord; I must see Lady Ascot, and then be off."
Lord Ascot wished him kindly good by, and took up his novel
again. Charles went alone up to Lady Ascot's room.
He knocked at the door, and received no answer; so he went
in. Lady Ascot was there, although she had not answered him.
She was sitting upright by the'fire, staring at the door, with her
hands folded on her lap. A fine, brave-looking old lady at all
times, but just now, Charles thought, with that sweet look of pity
showing itself principally about the corners of the gentle old
mouth, more noble-looking than ever!
"May I come in, Lady Ascot?" said Charles.
"My dearest own boy! You must come in and sit down.
You must be very quiet over it. Try not to make a scene, my
dear. I am not strong enough.* It has shaken me so terribly.
I heard you had come, and were with Ascot. And I have been
trembling in every limb. Not from terror so much of you in
your anger, as because my conscience is not clear. I may have
hidden things from you, Charles, which you ought to have known."
And Lady Ascot began crying silently.
Charles felt the blood going from his cheeks to his heart. His
interview with Lord Ascot had made him suspect something further was wrong than what he knew of, and his suspicions were
getting stronger every moment. He sat down quite quietly,
looking at Lady Ascot, and spoke not one word. Lady Ascot,
wiping her eyes, went on; and Charles's heart began to beat with
a dull, heavy pulsation, like the feet of those who carry a coffin.
"I ought to have told you what was going on between them
before she went to old Lady Hainault. I ought to have told you
of what went on before Lord Hainault was married. I can never
forgive myself, Charles. You may upbraid me, and I will sit here
and make not one excuse. But I must say that I never for one
moment thought that she was anything more than light-headed.
I - 0 Lord! I never dreamt it would have come to this."
"Are you speaking of Adelaide, Lady Ascot? " said Charles.
"Of course I am," she said, almost peevishly. "If I had
ever — "
" Lady Ascot," said Charles, quietly, you are evidently speaking of something of which I have not heard. What has Adelaide done?"
The old lady clasped her hands above her head. "0, weary,
weary day! And I thought that he had heard it all, and that