Ravenshoe. By Henry Kingsley.

SUPPLEMENTARY TO THE FOREGOING. 11
cealed contempt on the other. Mackworth, on the one hand,
knew that she understood and despised him, and he hated her.
She, on the other hand, knew that he knew it, but thought him
too much below her to notice, save now and then, that she might
put down with a high hand any, even the most distant, approach
to a tangible impertinence. But she was no match for him in
the arts of petty, delicate, galling annoyances. There he was
her master; he had been brought up in a good school for that,
and. had learnt his lesson kindly. He found out that she disliked
his presence, and shrunk from his smooth, lean face with unutterable dislike. From that moment he was always in her way, overwhelming her with oily politeness, rushing across the room to
pick up anything she had dropped, or to open the door, till it
required the greatest restraint to avoid breaking through all
forms of politeness, and bidding him begone. But why should
we go on -detailing trifles like these, which in themselves are
nothing, but accumulated, are unbearable?
So it went on, till one morning, about two years after the marriage, Mackworth appeared in Clifford's room, and, yawning,
threw himself into a chair.
"Benedicite," said Father Clifford, who never neglected religious etiquette on any occasion.
Mackworth stretched out his legs and yawned, rather rudely,
and then relapsed into silence. Father Clifford went on reading.
At last Mackworth spoke.
" I'll tell you what, my good friend, I am getting sick of this;
I shall go back to Rome."
"To Rome?"
"Yes, back to Rome," repeated the other impertinently, for he
always treated the good old priest with contemptuous insolence
when they were alone. "What is the use of staying here, fighting that woman? There is no more chance of turning her than
a rock, and there is going to be no family."
"You think so?" said Clifford.
"Good heavens, does it look like it? Two years, and not a
sign; besides, should I talk of going, if I thought so? Then
there would be a career worthy of me; then I should have a
chance of deserving well of the Church, by keeping a wavering
family in her bosom. And I could do it, too: every child would
be a fresh weapon in my hands against that woman. Clifford, do
you think that Ravenshoe is safe?"
He said this so abruptly that Clifford colored and started.
Mackworth at the same time turned suddenly upon him, and
scrutinized his face keenly.
"Safe!" said the old man; "what makes you fear otherwise?"